The Dark Angel
by Tim H. Smith
Summary: You never want to disappoint your father...much less if his name is Lord Voldemort.
1. Chapter One

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Author Notes: I'd like to thank my great BETA and favorite author, Tantz, who owns exactly as much of the plot, the story and everything else as I do (if not more). Her help changed the story and even the plot to a much more decent one. Her work was so immense that this story can easily be called a co-written. If you haven't read her stories, go read them NOW! If you have, read them again! 

**__**

The Dark Angel

By: Tim H. Smith

Chapter One: 

The boy leaned against the windowsill. ' Where are you dad?' he thought as he watched the sun rise behind the thick trees of the forest. He hadn't been able to sleep more than two hours. It was almost two days that his father hadn't come home, leaving him alone in the large Manor with only two house elves to keep him company, and they were bloody annoying with the worried looks and glances they exchanged, the worst part was that they wouldn't tell him anything. He had requested, asked, demanded, threatened and even hexed them but hadn't gotten any thing more than, " Fiddy is not knowing, sir." And, " Lotty can not tell Master Angel." This all gave him the feeling that something was seriously wrong; he only hoped that dad was safe.

" Your highness," a voice from behind startled him. He turned back wand in hand, ready to curse any auror that had managed to break in. But there were none, instead there were three Death Eaters bowing respectfully. 

" What do you want?" he answered trying to keep his voice cold and steady, like his father always demanded of him, regardless of emotions. 

" We have bad news, your highness." 

" Take off your masks." As they complied, Angel recognized their faces. Aeneas and Lavinia Lestrange, who were both high in the ranks and also the only people aside from his father who knew the location of the Dark Manor, and they had brought with themselves a nervous looking Lucius Malfoy. 

Lavinia was the one to talk first, " it is about his lordship," after a respectful ('or maybe fearful' he thought) pause she continued, " the night before last, his lordship went after the Potters. He insisted on going alone, and said it was all about an old prophesy which he didn't allow us to know. But he never came back, we all felt a sharp sensation in our arms and the Dark Mark glowed green and then it went invisible." 

" What do you mean?" Angel said, his brain refusing to believe what she was implying. 

Aeneas was the one to make the last strike, " they say that his lordship killed James and Lily Potter, but when he tried to kill their infant son, Harry," he stopped, looking helpless. " Go on." Angel cried impatiently. The Death Eater said in a low voice, as if not wanting to be heard, " the spell back fired. The boy is intact except for a scar on his fore head." No body talked for a while. 

" You mean a _baby_ killed the Dark Lord?" Angel said quietly, still not believing what he had been told. 

" Definitely not," Lavinia said. His head shot up hopefully, " the Mark is invisible but we can quite sense its presence. Our lord might be weakened, or maybe he has fallen into a trap, but he is certainly alive. We have already started to search for him. We'll try to be as discreet as possible but we won't hesitate to set on action if necessary. We _will _find Lord Voldemort." She rose her head and looked in his eyes; black curls half hiding her determined dark ones. Angel only nodded. 

" Meanwhile we have plans for your safety." Lucius Malfoy talked at last, " we will put you into an enchanted sleep, giving you a potion which will preserve your present mental and physical status. When the Dark Lord returns, we'll wake you up." Angel decided he didn't like this idea very much but just as he opened his mouth to protest, Malfoy talked again, his face even paler than usual. " We can not guard you, as many of us are under pursuit and might even be arrested and sent to Azkaban, and…." 

He couldn't end his sentence as Angel started to talk sternly, now with more control over his voice, " how very disrespectful of you to interrupt me, Lucius." Malfoy flinched visibly under three glares being sent his way. Angel breathed in, 'control yourself. There's no time for lordship shows right now,' he thought and continued in a more subdued voice, "and just _what_, pray tell, am I supposed to be protected against? As long as I know, nobody knows the location of this Manor." 

" It is not unspotable, and if they know where to look they may find it. Many of us are arrested and some of them may have some information. It might not be of great use to Dumbledore and the Ministry but we don't want to take any risks." 

Angel glared at the Death Eater who had talked, "honestly Aeneas, do you think _anybody_ is foolish enough to betray my father?" 

Aeneas bowed lower to the floor, " I'm sorry to say, your highness, that unfortunately most of them are." 

"Why do you think so?"

"Many have bought the Ministry's lies about our lord. Some have surrendered themselves to the Ministry, claiming that they had been under Imperius curse. Some even," the man's voice turned into an angry snarl, " some, like that coward Karkaroff, even had the nerve to openly suggest to give away names and all other kinds of information they have. We are sure the Ministry knows about your existence by now. If so, you are in great danger. The light side has proved to be able to do things than giving a child the Dementor's Kiss." 

" I see your point," replied Angel, he still didn't like the idea but remembering the screams that had filled his head when he had once faced a dementor, he decided not to argue. He had too much on his mind to remember to make an angry remark to Aeneas for referring to him as "child". " When shall you start?" 

" The sooner, the better. We could do it right now if you do not object."

" That is alright with me. Where will I be sleeping?" 

" In one of the secret chambers in the dungeons, we already have one in mind but the final choice is left to you." Answered Lavinia respectfully. 

" Where is Snape when you need him?" said Lucius with frustration as he tried to chip the gilly weed and not let its worms run away at the same time. 

" Azkaban," said Lavinia placidly as she stirred the thick purple liquid in the silver cauldron clock wise, " and you will pray you were there if you don't stop whining." Lucius glared at her, before getting back to work muttering under his breath. 

" If only I got my hands on that Pettigrew rat," snarled Aeneas. 

" Pettigrew? Is it the same one who was killed by Black?" Lucius asked. 

" Yes, the traitor was too lucky Black only blasted him off, I would do it slower, letting him regret the moment he betrayed our Lord till the end of his sodden life, not that it would be too long anyhow,"

" you mean that coward Pettigrew was a Death Eater? And how could he possibly betray his lordship?" 

The couple exchanged meaningful looks, " I think we can tell him, there is little this small piece of information can change now anyway." Aeneas said. 

" Not that we have much choice now that you chose to open that big trap of yours," Lavinia snapped. 

" Alright," Aeneas continued, completely ignoring his wife's comment, " the Potters' secret keeper was Pettigrew not Black. They switched it the last minute, something about fooling us; not even Dumbledore knew." 

" But they didn't know that Pettigrew was a Death Eater and would give them away to the Dark Lord," said Lucius thoughtfully. 

" Or maybe," interrupted Lavinia, " they knew, and had meant it to be a trap. It apparently didn't work very well though, as three of them got killed in the process," Lavinia smirked. 

" I see now," said Lucius quietly and went back to his chipping work….

Angel entered the cold dungeon room, wearing a gray cotton robe. The tree Death Eaters bowed. Malfoy stepped forward and knelt before him, holding a silver plate with a goblet on it for him to drink. The potion looked a disgusting light green. Angel grimaced but picked the goblet and drank the liquid. To his surprise it didn't taste foul, if a little bitter. A moment after he had drowned it he felt an icy sensation go through his veins and he shuddered involuntarily. "Now please lie on the bed, your highness." Lavinia said. He did so and took a last look at every thing in the room before shutting his eyes and going to sleep, the last thing he heard was the three voices muttering meaningless incantations. ' Please be safe dad.' was his last thought as he surrendered to the charm.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter Two

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Author Notes: I'd like to thank my great BETA and favorite author, Tantz, who owns exactly as much of the plot, the story and everything else as I do (if not more). Her help changed the story and even the plot to a much more decent one. Her work was so immense that this story can easily be called a co-written. If you haven't read her stories, go read them NOW! If you have, read them again!

Many thanks to Jamynsfire for her review. 

**__**

Chapter Two: 

Snape apparated at the large dungeon room, feeling as anxious as he felt for every Death Eater gathering. He had been more than lucky last time when he could persuade his former master that the reason he didn't show up the first time was that Dumbledore had been keeping a close eye on him when Potter disappeared. Although it didn't mean he had gotten away without his _punishment_, it had cost him three days in the hospital wing. It had been hard to muster the energy to apparate. He noticed that there were only three others summoned beside himself. This couldn't be good, never was. 

" I'm glad you are all on time my loyal Death Eaters," the Dark Lord said studying their nervous figures with sick pleasure, "you are the only people privy to today's gathering, feel privileged." The Death Eaters bowed and said their thanks in unison.

" Lucius," 

" Yes my lord," Lucius Malfoy took a step forward. 

" CRUCIO!" He fell screaming to the ground, writhing and flicking. When he at last decided to break up the curse, Voldemort lifted the Death Eater's chin with the tip of his boot, and said in a low threatening voice, " do you care to tell me about the treasure that lies in one of the secret chambers in the dungeons of this very Manor Luciusss?" 

Malfoy was too confused at first to even understand the question properly but then it struck him like another Cruciatus curse, ' the boy, oh bloody Merlin.' " A very precious one my lord, your…your son lies there in an enchanted sleep," 

" precious indeed," the Dark Lord smirked. " And can you possibly tell me how and why was he put there? And for how long?" 

" The Lestranges and… and myself my lord, put his highness in the sleep, two days after… after that Halloween night my lord. In an attempt to guard him from … from Dumbledore and the Ministry my lord." He said, feeling like a panicked dog being whipped by its master. The next hit of Cruciatus came predictably. 

The Dark Lord waited until he could talk again, " and do you know what may such a long period of enchanted sleep result into?" 

" It can cause a coma my lord." " Or…?" 

" Or … sometimes … death my lord." He shut his eyes waiting for the curse to come; this one was broken just when Lucius desperately felt he was on the edge of his sanity. 

" I hope you at least _know_ what charm you used, and know how to _undo_ it." Voldemort snarled, his eyes now two narrow red slits on the pale face. 

" Yyes, my lord. I can undo it, my lord" Lucius answered. 

" You hope you can Malfoy. Do you know what will happen if you fail to awake him alive or mess anything up?" 

" I will be begging for Azkaban, my lord," 

" or worse. You and your family." 

" Yes my lord." Voldemort waved his hand dismissively, Lucius kissed the hem of his robe before picking himself miserably from the floor and half walking, half crawling to his place.

" Severus," Voldemort said suddenly. 

" Yes, my lord." Snape said as he stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully, waiting for the curse that would probably be shot. 

Most surprisingly it wasn't, instead Voldemort only said, " I want you to brew the most powerful strengthening potion you know, not later than Thursday," 

" It will be ready by then, my lord." It seemed as if Albus would get some interesting information tonight. 

*****

He woke up hearing yet another meaningless incantation. He was conscious enough to hear the three voices but couldn't open his eyes until a minute later. The dungeon room was the same as before, he saw Malfoy, Nott and Avery putting their wands back into their pockets. None were wearing masks and relief was obvious on their sweated faces. A moment later a hand touched his shoulder, another one handing him a potion. He tried to sit up but was overcome by dizziness. The man helped him sit and put the goblet at his lips. He looked up at him, Severus Snape the Potions Master, his lips were moving but he couldn't make out the words before another second, "…should drink this potion your highness." Angel drowned the acrid liquid as fast as he could, before being gently laid back on the bed. 

" His highness will be able to leave the bed in a few hours, my lord." The Potions Master said as he walked back to a respectful distance from the bed. 

Voldemort nodded from the farther end of the room, " you are dismissed for now, and Lucius," he glared at the pale man, " don't let such things happen again." 

" Yes, my lord." 

Angel tried to sit up to see his father but a slim pale hand pushed him back, " you still need to rest for a few hours." Angel looked up and blanched at the sight over his head. Coming out of the collar of the black robe, was a thin neck with a bone-white, skull shaped head on it. Angel gulped at the sight of the reptilian features, the snake like nostrils and flat nose, the ugly smile playing on the thin pale lips and the non-existent eyebrows raised in amusement. It was only the eyes that made him recognize the man. The red eyes with pupils like a cat's, a result of a complicated disguise charm invented by his father himself. 

" D-dad?" he stuttered. 

"So you still know your father," the ugly smile widened. Angel suppressed a shudder but his father noticed it. 

Angel nodded hesitantly then asked in a quiet voice, " it is a new kind of disguise charms, isn't it?" 

" No, this is how I really look like after my…resurrection." 

" What do you mean? You weren't dead, were you?" 

His father's expression darkened and he said in a low voice, " I can't tell you exactly. I wasn't really dead, but I had lost my body. It took quite a long time until one of my _loyal_ servants decided to come after me and help me to be reborn." He smirked. Angel gulped. 

"What? Am I any different to you?" 

Angel hesitated for a moment before saying, " well…your hair's gone…and your nose…you are so thin…and even paler than before." 

" Nobody would have looked better after a killing curse backfired at them and they lived without a body for fifteen years." His father snapped.

" Fifteen years?" 

"Yes, and you were sleeping all this time while I was struggling to get back what is my right," he grabbed Angel firmly by his arms and put his pale face an inch from his, "you'd better get used to this whether you like it or not. I'm still your father and master." Angel shook his head fervently. 

" No dad. You got me wrong. I didn't mean _you_ have changed to me. It's just your looks. Who the hell cares about looks?" He wrapped his arms around his father's body, " I love you in any form dad. I love you so much. And I was so worried about you." His father pushed him back. 

"You are no more a five-year-old, honestly," he said, but his tone was milder. 

Angel flushed a bit. " I just wanted to say I'm happy you are back safe, dad." He said quietly. 

His father smiled dimly, "you…should take some rest." His father ordered, getting up from the bed. 

"I've been sleeping for…fifteen years," Angel said with widened eyes, " I can't believe it. It didn't feel like more than a few hours!" He said as he covered himself. His father laughed out aloud at his astounded tone and face and turned to go but Angel grabbed his hand. 

" No, please stay," he said meekly. His father hesitated for a moment and seemed to be about saying something but changed his mind. He smiled a crooked smile and sat at the other end of the bed with his legs crossed studying Angel in his usual thoughtful manner. Angel smiled brightly despite himself and shut his eyes. It was going to be hard. He always felt nervous when looking at the red eyes and was very thankful that dad saved them for the gatherings. But now he had to see them always. He clenched his hands into fists under the blanket. He would get used to it. He wouldn't hurt dad even more, he vowed silently.

*****

" Now you _are_ quite very old my dear Dark Lord." Angel shouted as he scored again. 

" Ha! That was really so funny let's see what you have for this one. Fumato!" Angel dodged it and sent another hex at his father who was about to score but failed, trying to dodge the spell and a bludger, which came toward him at the same time. 

" Well, maybe I'm not really as young as I used to be." His father said resignedly as he returned to the ground followed by Angel who got hexed as soon as his toes touched the ground. 

" Still," his father said with an amused smile on his face, " it doesn't mean I'm not faster than you Sleeping Beauty!" He then undid the spell, laughing at his son's glare. 

" Now I call for truce as I certainly need to get some lunch."

" Me too." Angel said, accepting his father's hand to get up; he shouted and jumped to his feet as an electric feeling filled his body. 

" What was that?" he asked his father who was in a fit of laughter, " You called for truce!"

" How can you share Salazar Slytherin's blood, I have no idea." His father said, still smiling with a strange look of triumph and contempt on his face. He then swung his broom on his shoulder and headed toward the Manor, followed by Angel who was muttering under his breath. 

" By the way dad," Angel asked on their way back. 

" Hmm, mm?" 

" I was wondering who was the Death Eater who came after you. I bet it was Lavinia or that Crouch boy, but why so late?" 

" It was none of them," his father said in a dark voice, " Lavinia is still in Azkaban and Crouch was in no better condition, he helped a lot in the process but not before I broke his father's Imperius curse, under which he had lived for thirteen years." 

" Who was it then?"

" You won't believe if I tell you. It was Wormtail."

" You can't possibly mean that Pettigrew guy, right?" 

" That's exactly who I mean. He didn't do it because of loyalty though; both sides were hunting him at the time. He was simply left without any other choice."

" I am happy he was how ever," Angel said, " but it is strange that nobody else tried, not even Lucius." 

" The most loyal of my servants have spent all this time in Azkaban. Many of the rest are cowards; the others spent some time in the prison and after being freed didn't want to attract any kind of attention to themselves. Some denied having any attachment to me, claimed that they were under Imperius curse for all those years. Many are back in their high social status now. Severus is a professor in Hogwarts and I have heard that he was saved by Dumbledore himself and Lucius has a high position in the ministry. And you should know that Lucius, Severus and many others are not loyal to me. Yes, they may enjoy killing and torturing other people, but in the end they just think about their own benefit. They will sell you away for their wealth or social status." 

" I see. Now will you tell me about your time in Hogwarts when you pulled that prank on Dumbledore? I think it was your fourth year." Angel said in an attempt to change the subject. 

" I am teaching you the most important points in leadership and all you can think about is some stupid prank?" His father said angrily. 

" Sorry," Angel mumbled, " I just wanted to…change the subject." 

" Why?" His father snapped. 

" It made you…sad to talk about." His father stopped and stared at him for a few moments then lowered his head to be in eye level with the boy. 

" Nothing and absolutely nothing can affect me. I'm untouchable. Is it quite clear?" 

" Yes dad." Angel answered quietly, looking at his shoes. His father turned and walked away in long steady strides. Angel lingered and walked in a distance behind. Dad was definitely touchier than when he remembered last. 

**__**

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter Three

**__**

Author Notes: I'd like to thank my great BETA and favorite author, Tantz, who owns exactly as much of the plot, the story and everything else as I do (if not more). Her help changed the story and even the plot to a much more decent one. Her work was so immense that this story can easily be called a co-written. If you haven't read her stories, go read them NOW! If you have, read them again!

Many thanks, roses and cookies to all those who reviewed. Let's just pray the rest of the story will satisfy you. Also, three cheers for Bianca for her kind and…err loving e-mail. *hands you cookies*

Those people who have problems with Angel's name…hehe I understand you. But who knows? Perhaps it will come handy later in the fic* evil smile*

Only three days left till the Phoenix's release. Can I hope that you won't all leave me afterwards?

All right *cracks knuckles* let's see what happens next, shall we?

**__**

Chapter Three: 

" Sorry bishop, I need to murder you." Angel grinned as his knight caught the black bishop's head off. 

" You murderer!" His father snarled with feigned anger. Angel laughed out aloud. " But I don't mind," his father continued, " it was a worthless piece to my plan. Life is also a game of chess. If you are strong and intelligent enough, you will be the player. Otherwise you are the pieces, without real decisions and you will be killed if proved useless." 

" Really? And who are you playing against, oh great dark player?" 

His father frowned and looked up from the board, " who do _you_ think I'm playing against?" he said with narrowed eyes. 

"Well," Angel gulped and concentrated. "Dumbledore?" His father leaned back in the chair, sipping his wine thoughtfully.

"Somehow yes. The man could have gained quite a bit of power had he wanted. But being enslaved by his own emotions and ideals, he was too foolish for it." 

" Or maybe he saw something else in life," Angel said thoughtfully. 

" I've told you before that there is nothing else. There is only power and those too weak – or foolish- to use it. The rest are only illusions. I have bad news for you now. Checkmate!"

" What? How? Damn. I think I'm rather blind." 

" So do I. I think you may not be sorted in Slytherin if I don't keep vigils praying for you!" his father said sarcastically, but Angel felt there was more to it. 

" Is it anything special you want to imply dad?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair, trying to forget about the bad loss; his father always used the same tactic, tricking him into believing that something was his plan and defeating him with another cleverer one. His father gave him a satisfied crooked smile.

" Maybe there is still some hope for you after all. Yes, I have special _educational _programs for you."

' Not again,' thought Angel, mentally rolling his eyes. " I think I have told you more than once dad that I have…" his father stopped him by raising a hand. 

" I know. But it's not what you think. I have had much time to think about our discussions, and although I still don't agree with your arguments, I have came to the conclusion that perhaps you can do something that is more interesting and also… cleaner, from your point of view. Perhaps we should both wait for a longer while until you are older and thus able to understand things better." Angel wasn't in the mood to discuss his father's ideas about the meaning of the world, so he decided to stick to this new option. 

" What's this _educational_ plan of yours then?" he asked. 

" You'll be attending Hogwarts." 

" I don't think I heard you right," Angel said when he had recovered from the shock.

" Oh yes you did!" his father said, an amused smile playing on his lips. 

" But they won't let me. Honestly Dumbledore can't be _that_ stupid." 

" According to Hogwarts rules if a student wishes to continue their studies in the school from a year other than first, on condition that they have been sent the inviting letter for their first year before, they should give an entrance exam. If you pass it, not even Dumbledore himself will be able to stop you from attending Hogwarts." 

" But I got no letters." 

" You did but I destroyed it, and refused their offer…rather harshly." Angel, looking warily at the wry crooked smile on his father's face, decided that he didn't want to know just how harsh the response had been.

" I still think it is impossible, what if… what if they kill me and don't let me give the exam at all?" 

" They won't. They are the _light_ side." His father smirked. 

" I know how are aurors like."

" They are different. Dumbledore is even stupider than the Ministry, and as long as I know the two aren't in very good terms with each other. The Old Fool will never kill a child, whether it is my heir or not. You can be quite sure of that, I wouldn't have told you to go there if there was any possible danger." 

" What good can I do there? Even if they don't kill me they will keep a close eye on me, won't let me breathe without permission!" 

" You aren't going to do anything special. This is more like an educational tour for you, to know our enemies better, and also choose and know my potential future servants. I promise you will be convinced about how I see certain things by Christmas. Besides, you can keep an eye on Severus. I don't really believe all that Lucius tells about him, but a little bit of investigation can't do any harm. Your presence may at least steel his loyalties where they might be wavering. Also, you can always act as a distraction." 

" And what if I still don't want to do that?" 

" Then you will have to put your more childish ideas aside and take parts in real activities." His father's voice wasn't angry, but it was firm and on the edge and told that he had no other choice. 

He looked up at his father and said, "I still don't like this idea very much, but between bad and worse, I choose the former." 

" I had guessed you would," his father smirked, " you will enjoy it I'm sure." Angel wasn't sure whether he could promise that.

********

" Albus," the door to the headmaster's office slammed open to reveal a very distracted and disheveled Minerva McGonagall in her nightgown with only a cloak draped hastily around her shoulders. 

" Good midnight Minerva! You'd better see to it that Severus is not informed; he will pursue you for stealing his trade mark entrance." The woman paid no attention to his joke; instead she hurried up to his desk, throwing a piece of rich, silky parchment into his face.

" My! It must have cost you a small fortune." He said amiably, but his face lost its usual smile when he unfolded the letter to read the neat handwriting. He looked up at Minerva who seemed about to collapse. 

" What should we do now Albus?" 

" Well I think we can hold the entrance exam on July 20th and 21st," 

" Albus! Please be serious!" 

" I am quite serious Minerva. We have to follow the rules, just as we did about 20 years ago when we sent Mr. Angel Riddle his invitation letter for his first year."

" But we can't… wait a minute. Vol… You-Know-Who has _two_ sons?" 

" Not as far as I know." 

" Then… the boy must be at least thirty by now, or older. Why should he want to attend Hogwarts?" 

Dumbledore smiled up at his deputy and said in a teacher-like tone, " the boy was put into an enchanted sleep after Voldemort's downfall, and his mental and physical status was preserved. He is officially, and I guess magically too, thirty, but physically and mentally he is no more than fifteen." 

" But… aha! We can reject his request because the boy is officially older than the usual range for students of this school." 

" We can't." 

" Why?" 

" Hogwarts has no legal age range. We have had students who failed several times, thus finishing their studies in an older age. It resulted into passing of a law, which stated that students failing for more than seven years should be expelled. But even then there was much protest around the passing of it. As you know Hogwarts laws haven't changed very much since the Founders' time." He explained tolerantly, feeling very much like Professor Binns. 

" But how can we? It will be a danger to the school, to the students, to everyone. What will the parents say?" 

" Most of them don't know about Voldemort's real name, and those who do most probably won't object."

" He will be in the same year with _Harry Potter_! They will have classes together. It will be only too easy for him to…oh I don't want to even think about it. Do you know what happens if…?" 

" We'll keep a close eye on him, and he will know that." 

" Please be realistic Albus, only a moment's distraction and anything may happen. I knew his father when he was in school, so did you, he was…stealthy, to say the least."

" I know Minerva, he was my own student," Albus said, the dark shadow that passed his face for a moment being completely unnoticed by Minerva, " but as you said he was always stealthy. He will never plan to use such an obvious way. I think the boy is more of a distraction than a threat."

" But what if he _wants_ us to think this way and thus let the boy be in less suspicion? What if…"

" There is really nothing we can do about it, Minerva. You'd better go and write his reply now." Minerva looked at Albus for a long time, his eyes held their ever-lasting twinkle but his face was more serious than usual. 

" Good night Albus. See you at break fast." She said as she tried to compose herself, pulling the cloak tighter around her body. If Albus thought it was right, it had to be. She ran into a hasty Severus Snape in the spiral staircase, who merely brushed past her without a word. She shook her head, quite used to his rude behavior when coming back from a meeting so late in the night, or at any other time for that matter.

Severus burst through the door. " How are you Severus? It is becoming a very adventurous night indeed. I will be lucky if I don't have a heart attack by morning." Albus said merrily. Snape collapsed into an armchair nearest to the old man's desk, still clutching the ivory mask. 

"You won't believe what I have to tell you!" Dumbledore rose his eyebrows and tapped his chin in feigned thought. 

" Let me guess… maybe Voldemort's son wants to attend Hogwarts?"

Snape was shocked only for a moment then narrowed his eyes, " how do you know?" 

" Voldemort told me himself," he smiled at the rare sight of the puzzled Potions Master, " or maybe 'wrote' would describe it better." He handed the letter to Severus. 

" What are you going to do now?"

" Follow the rules and hold the entrance exam." 

" Are you sure there is no other way?" the younger man said after a moment of silence. 

" I wish there was." Severus nodded and rose from the chair, invisibly flinching because of the pain that filled his body. He needed to take some potions soon; the effect of those he always kept in his pocket was starting to wear off. 

" I hope you won't mind to hear my report tomorrow morning." 

" Not at all, my boy. Go get some rest, I trust it was a hard night." Severus walked out of the room and down to the dungeons, leaving the headmaster with his thoughts. Albus rose from his chair to shut the door that Severus had left open. He then walked to the window and stared out of it to the moon lit grounds of Hogwarts. Fawkes trilled a worried note. He petted the red bird on the head. 

"What do you think old friend?" he asked the bird, " what is Tom Riddle playing at this time?" Fawkes remained silent. 

" I don't know either," he said thoughtfully. He knew one thing though; he wouldn't make the same mistake again. The boy was probably darker than what his father was as a boy, and would be more respected among his peers, at least by the Death Eaters' children. However he wouldn't leave him alone to be lured into darkness like his father, he would do anything he could to prevent that from happening. He would do him the favor he had deprived his father from. **_' If he isn't already lost,'_** said a small voice at the back of his head. 

" No," he said aloud to banish the thought, " there is still some hope." He said firmly. ' There better be,' he thought ruefully, ' or I will never die in peace.' He sighed and walked to the other side of the room to fetch his pensive, it seemed to be one of the nights he would certainly need it.

***************

The next days passed in a blur. He would be attending Hogwarts in his fifth year. He had no problem in fourth year stuff, but his father insisted that he should learn some upper class subjects too, in case they would deliberately ask him harder questions. Hogwarts reply letter came to an owl office in a rather far town, just as his father had planned it. He sent some of the Death Eaters to steal it at night, giving them direct orders not to destroy the place or conjure the Dark Mark or any other _interesting _activity. His father himself undid any tracking charms or possible curses that could have been put on the envelope or letter. The letter read:

Dear Mr. Angel Riddle,

I would like to inform you that your request has been accepted. The entrance exam takes place on 20th and 21st of July, in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at exactly 8:00 A.M. if you fail to be there at the said time, you will automatically be considered Fail.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

PS: Your list of exams for each of the dates is as follows:

July 20th: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic and Ancient Runes

July 21st: Herbology, Defense against Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures 

He looked up from the parchment to see his father smiling at his own thoughts. " How can I get there? I'm sure they would be more than happy to fail me because of being late."

" Severus will take you there. I have talked with him about it. You will spend the night in the castle. On midnight of the 21st, I summon Severus and he will apparate you back here." Angel only nodded. 

" You will pass it, it's far beneath your abilities." Angel could argue that the exam wouldn't probably consist of advanced curses, but decided against it. He had accepted it, and he would be the best if he were going to go to that school. Those fools would find no reason not to accept him. 

It was now the 20th and Angel was nervously looking at the clock, which showed half past seven. " Come here Angel, I'm going to summon him now," his father called from the adjoining hall. He went out to find his father on his throne and in the billowing black robes he always wore during Death Eater gatherings. He too was dressed in rich black robes, with silver patterns resembling coiling snakes on its cuffs. He walked to the throne.

" You are ready?" his father asked. 

He merely nodded, then added after a moment's hesitation, "I'm nervous." 

" Lord Voldemort's son can never nervous for a stupid test." 

" I can't help it." 

" Then try and prove that you share my blood." His father said firmly. He snapped his fingers and in a second Severus Snape was standing in front of them. After the usual homage and all, his father said in a cold, cruel voice, " is everything under control Severusss?"

" Yes my lord."

" What about those of your colleagues that aren't informed of your _true_ loyalties? Won't they be suspeciousss?"

" No, my lord. They think that his highness is travelling by train and that I'm picking him up from the station." Voldemort nodded and looked at Angel, who walked over to Severus. 

" I will assssume you responsible for anything _unexpected_ that may happen during these two days and the school year. Have I made myself quite clear Severusss? " 

" Yes, my lord." 

" It'd better be so," Voldemort said coldly, " go now." 

" Yes, my lord." Severus bowed before disapparating the two of them away.

They apparated into a dark, gloomy forest. " This way," Severus said shortly. After a short walk, they reached a road; Angel silently followed Severus down it. After a few minutes he could see the gates and towers of Hogwarts. Angel nearly lost his composure and gasped as the glorious castle came into full view. 

" You have definitely chosen yourself a nice place to work, Severus." 

Severus only barely nodded, but he added after a few seconds, " maybe I should remind you that during your stay here, I will be calling you Mr. Riddle. You on the other hand, should call me 'Professor Snape' or 'sir' and treat me with the same respect every other student does." 

" Hmm. _Professor_ _Snape_, sounds a little odd. But don't worry, I'll manage." He smiled up at the tall man, who only nodded again.

"Where are we going now?" Angel asked as they got another turning in the corridor, giving up the attempt to memorize the way they had come. 

"We'll go to the Headmaster's office first. You'll meet the teachers and then the exam begins." He stopped in front of a gargoyle. 

" Bloody Pops," he said. Angel looked at him in surprise for a moment, before the gargoyle started to move to show a moving, spiral staircase. ' A rather odd password for such a powerful wizard, isn't it?' he asked from himself. They walked up to a wooden door. Severus knocked. 

" Come in, please." Said a voice from behind the door. It didn't sound like the voice of a great wizard either. Angel braced his shoulders and held his chin up as he entered behind Severus, wearing a calm and serene expression. The last thing he would show the Old Fool and his servants was the picture of a nervous, frightened lost child. 

**__**

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter Four

**__**

Author Notes: Many many cheers for my beautiful BETA and co-writer, Tantz. I take it that you have all read her stories. Otherwise, I have no idea how you call yourselves Snape fans.

Alright, you are all reading the real thing. I know that one's a thousand times better, but I will continue this. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Can I count on more? 

**__**

Chapter Four:

Angel walked into the great circular room behind Severus. The room was a rather fantastic one, Angel admitted to himself while trying to get in as much as he could from the room without making a complete fool of himself. There were comfortable looking armchairs all around the room and almost all of them were occupied. A huge man, at least three times bigger than normal size, was occupying a large sofa by himself and was eyeing Angel rather warily. 

"Headmaster, Mr. Angel Riddle," Severus announced before walking up to take an armchair, near the old man's over stuffed desk. 

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Riddle." 

"The pleasure is all mine…sir." It sounded rather odd, but Angel reminded himself to use the proper word addressing a professor. 

"Please take your seat," the old man said kindly, gesturing to a chair in the middle of the room where everybody could see him. He nodded and took the chair, holding his head up to look at his father's greatest enemy. The old man definitely couldn't be anything but _light_. He had long white beard and hair and was wearing a light blue robe, matching the color of the merrily twinkling eyes, which were now inspecting him from above half moon spectacles. Angel unconsciously avoided those eyes, they gave him the uncomfortable feeling that the old man could see right through him; he noticed that, much to his surprise, he had stopped thinking about him as the Old Fool. 

"Your exams will consist of answering written questions, and for some lessons there will be practical tests too. Three people will judge you on each lesson, which are the professor of that lesson, myself and a member of the Board of Governors, which is Mr. Samuel Nott," the headmaster said, gesturing to the stout man who nodded to Angel with a blank expression. He nodded back as politely as he could, trying to give others the impression that he hadn't known the man before. "Do you have any other questions?" 

"No, sir," Angel replied, marveling at the ease it came with this time. 

"Then please follow me," Dumbledore said as he rose from his chair. Angel rose too and followed the headmaster to an adjoining room through a door he hadn't noticed before.

It was a big room, which thankfully didn't look like a torture chambre. It was brightly lit by the morning sun. It seemed as if the room was divided into different zones. There was a dueling stage at the farther end of the room; he could also see various cauldrons and potion ingredients along the other wall. 

"Alright young man," Dumbledore said merrily, "let's start with your practical tests first."

The charms practical test was so easy he had to remind himself not to smirk. He felt extremely stupid banishing and summoning several objects, making different color fires or levitating a rather heavy book. He was so tempted to release the charm so that it would free fall on the tiny, squeaking professor.

Severus' test was different however. He wasn't allowed to use the recipe of the potion, which was a pretty complex one. He finished it successfully how ever, but Severus scowled at him deeply as gave him his A. Angel scowled darkly back at him when Dumbledore looked away, Snape didn't seem to mind it very much but turned his expression to the usual stony one, thankfully. 'Thank you very much for being so helpful Severus,' he thought darkly, 'don't you think I may run and tell my daddy? Well you are right; my own ways are far more fun than Cruciatus.' He smirked and broke the stare competition and looked at Nott who had the same blank, smug expression he had held from the first. But Angel could say he was bewildered by Snape's show. ' Pathetic Death Eaters,' Angel thought. Dad was certainly far more patient than what he had originally given him credit. 

When the Astronomy test began he absolutely gave up the attempt to keep his composure and merely gaped as Dumbledore swished his wand and muttered before the room went almost completely dark and the ceiling started to change into a night sky. 

"I thought it was so only in the Great Hall," he muttered in awe. Dumbledore chuckled. 

"It's not the same thing as Great Hall. It's merely a picture of last night sky and it's temporary. I'm glad you think it looks real however." Angel smiled and turned his attention to professor Sinistra who was starting to ask her questions.

It was about 4 O'clock when the exams finally finished. "We're done for today," Dumbledore clapped his hands, "and I dare say Mr. Riddle that you did quite well. If you do the same on tomorrow's exam, I'm sure you will be attending Hogwarts this year." 

" Thank you, sir." Angel smiled. He was getting pretty used to the terms "sir" and "ma'am" and felt considerably more comfortable around Dumbledore than before. 

"I think you need to get some rest now. One of the guestrooms is already prepared for you. Severus, would you please be so kind to help Mr. Riddle find his way?" Severus nodded and headed toward the door. 

"Good afternoon, sir." Angel said. Dumbledore smiled and nodded at him.

He followed Severus through the labyrinth of the corridors again, trying to remember as much of the way as he could. But it was really hard, as he had to walk fast to keep up with Severus' long strides. He actually considered asking his father to teach the Potions Master a lesson or two when his foot stuck painfully in a trick step that Severus hadn't warned him about. He helped Angel out, and at least he kept his expression blank this time. But it didn't stop Angel from using these precious few Dumbledore-free minutes to glare at him, who was disappointingly undisturbed. When they got to his room at last Severus opened the door and stood aside for him to pass. 

"Merlin! How great you remembered that much _professor_." Severus stiffened himself a bit and frowned but didn't comment. 'That leaves us 1 to 1 now,' Angel thought as he walked past him and into the room, smirking. 

It was a beautiful room, Angel had to admit. There was a big window, which looked over a forest, much like his own bedroom. But there was a lake in the landscape too, and a hut at the edge of the forest. Everything in the room, from the carpet to the drapes and covers of the four poster bed, were in different shades of violate. 

Angel nodded his satisfaction. "It's nice. But all this time I was under the impression that Slytherin colors were silver and green, not violate." 

"It's not one of Slytherin rooms," Severus' silky voice from the door way, "it's a guestroom and doesn't belong to any special house and nor do_ you _in fact_._" 

Angel turned to look at him with risen eyebrows. "What do you mean? Of course I'm a Slytherin." 

"I'm fully aware of your origin but you aren't officially a member of Slytherin House until you are sorted." 

"Sorted?" 

"Yes, it will probably take place tomorrow if you manage to pass the other tests too." 

"How will they say what house I'll be in?" Angel cursed himself for not asking that from his father beforehand. Being Slytherin's heir, it had seemed so natural to him that he will be in Slytherin; but it seemed that there was more to it. 'Maybe they decide it from my grades,' he wondered, 'then I must mess something up or they will put me in Ravenclaw.' 

"It's quite simple," Severus' voice interrupted his thoughts, "there is an old hat, which is called the Sorting Hat. They place it on your head and it decides due to you characteristics, which house suits you best. Once you are sorted, you can't change the result." Severus' speech made him a bit nervous. And he wasn't sure about what would his father say if he was sorted anywhere but Slytherin. 

Just as Severus was turning to go, Angel called him from behind. "By the way Severus," the Potions Master turned with an eyebrow raised, "ahem… I mean professor." Severus smirked again but Angel decided to ignore it completely. "Just how many of the teachers know about my…origin?" 

Severus seemed to think for a second before answering, "I guess a fair number of them know. Some of them have taught your father, like Professor Binns and the headmaster himself, and he has probably told some of those he trusts more. Some others have gone to school with you father like Professor McGonagall, Professor Figg and…Hagrid." 

"Hagrid?" 

"The huge man you saw in the headmaster's office. He is a half giant." 'Light side, honestly,' Angel thought. "And you may know that he was expelled in his third year, because he was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets that resulted into the death of a Muggle born girl. The actual culprit, how ever," Snape gave him a meaningful look, "was identified a few years ago and his name was cleared. He teaches Care of Magical Creatures now." 

"I see," Angel said thoughtfully. What his father had told him about the Chamber of Secrets had always been a rather abridged version and he had never found the appropriate time to ask him about the details. He had almost forgotten about the whole thing. 

"And," Severus said, "you can use the band beside the fireplace to call a House Elf. You can have your meals in here or in the Great Hall, if you can find your way to it, though." 

"Don't worry Severus." Angel snapped his fingers; the Potions Master clutched his left arm and turned with a pale face. " I can always use your help," Angel said, a wry smile playing on his lips. " I think you can go now." He refrained from using the term " dismissed"; the tall man let go of his arm, nodded calmly and walked out of the room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. ' Wow! We are 2 to 1 now!' Angel grinned as the door was shut. 

*********************

Angel woke up at 6 O'clock the next morning. By 7:30 he had washed, dressed, eaten and was waiting for Severus who arrived five minutes later. Angel could say Severus was rather disappointed to find him up and ready but neither mentioned it. The exam was held at the same big room as yesterday. Dumbledore, Samuel Nott and Professor Figg were already present when he entered behind Severus. 

"Good morning headmaster, Mr. Nott, Professor," he greeted the three adults. Samuel only nodded, so did Professor Figg with an added smile. 

Dumbledore, however, was the only one to actually answer him. " Good morning Mr. Riddle. I trust you slept well." 

" Excellent sir, thank you." He replied politely. 

Dumbledore beamed at him and nodded. " Good. You will definitely need your strength today. Your first exam will be Defense against Dark Arts. Arabella, please." "

Very well," the woman nodded, turning to face Angel, " your practical exam consists of two parts. The first part is to recognize and explain the ways to defeat each of the dark creatures I have here. The second part will be dueling. Any questions?" 

"No ma'am." 

"We can get started then." 

The first part was fairly easy, as the darkest creature in the cages was a Grindylow. The second part however, proved rather tricky. He went up the stage after Professor Figg, who had taken off her cloak and was now in tight dueling robes. Angel wished Severus would look another way when he had to admit shamefully that he didn't know the laws of dueling. He had had many playful fights with his father but never a duel. 

" Expeliarmus!" She yelled as soon as Dumbledore finished counting up to three. He dodged it easily. 

"Lepidae." Angel didn't move an inch this time. It was dad's favorite hex. It didn't need aiming, so he could throw it at Angel without even having to look up from the book he was reading. He built up a reflecting shield as fast as he could and threw two other hexes at the professor while she was trying to get rid of the first. The duel was rather eventless – as eventless as a duel can be- and they kept throwing hexes and mild curses at each other. 

But things changed when Figg shouted after dodging a tickling curse, "Myodulerus!" 

Angel froze for a short moment before making his mind, building up the most powerful shield he could think of, and diving away from the curse's way. Predictably none was of any use and the curse hit him full blast. He fell to the ground and gritted his teeth, doing his best not to scream. Every single muscle in his body stiffened painfully, including those of his eyelids, which where pressed shut. 

"Arreta Dolo!" he heard Dumbledore shout. 

" What was that Arabella? I'm sure you know that was almost a dark curse, and definitely not on the curriculum." 

" It wasn't exactly a dark curse, and I wanted to see just how much information young Mr. Riddle has about dark magic." 

" How intelligent of you Arabella," Snape's angry voice this time, " but would you mind letting us know what would it prove if he possibly knew the counter curse?" 

" It would prove interesting things I'm sure you are aware of, Severus," Figg said calmly. 

" Nothing that isn't already proven, Professor," Dumbledore said sternly. He was kneeling beside Angel now, " Angel. Do you hear me?" 

"Yes," hissed Angel. He had never been able to use Parsel Tongue, although he understood it; but for a moment he doubted whether the hiss was in the language. But apparently it wasn't, as Dumbledore replied, 

"Alright then, try to sit up. There. Thank you Severus." The old man put a vial in his hand, which he emptied as fast as he could. 

" I think your Defense exam is over. You can use an adjoining room to rest a bit before your next. Would you help him please, Severus? Thank you. Arabella, I think we should have a talk." 

Angel opened his eyes at last as Severus helped him stand, to see a stern looking Dumbledore who looked less than pleased and somehow resembled the picture of a powerful wizard more than before, and a flushed Figg who was holding her head proudly up. As they descended the stage, Angel half leaning to the tall man, he caught sight of Nott sneering threateningly at Severus who stiffened a bit under Angel's shoulder. He gave the Death Eater his strongest glare, which helped to make the sneer vanish and turn the Death Eater's attention away from them. He didn't use the Dark Mark card though. Samuel Nott whimpering and clutching his arm and thus informing the whole world about his true colors, including Dumbledore who wasn't very far away and was currently giving Figg an earful wouldn't help anything. 

" Do you feel any better Angel?" Dumbledore asked, coming in the room ten minutes later. 

Angel got up from the sofa he had been lying on. " Yes, sir."

" Then you may want to attend to your next exam now." 

" Yes, sure." He followed the old man out of the room. They walked out to the grounds and toward the hut at the edge of the forest. Severus, Samuel and the half giant were already there. Severus was looking thoughtfully in direction of the lake, which was glittering under the sunlight. Nott was looking at the nervous huge man with loathe written all over his face. 

" Professor Dumbledore sir!" Hagrid greeted them far louder than necessary. 

" Hello Hagrid. Do you have everything ready?" 

" Yes, sir. Jus' behin' me hut." 

" Let's get started then. We have wasted enough time." 

Hagrid stood away for them to pass, taking a step back as Angel walked past him. Angel stopped for a moment, hesitating whether he should say anything; but his halt only helped to make the half giant even more nervous. 

" H…hello there," he stuttered. 

" Good morning Professor." Angel smiled. Hagrid seemed to be taken aback a bit with his greeting. 'Why, didn't dad ever said good morning to any one in his school time?' he wondered as he turned to face a clearing behind the wooden hut. He made a mental note to ask dad about what really happened with the Chamber of Secrets, as he fed the leaves to the Good-For-Nothing Flobber worms.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	5. Chapter Five

**__**

Author's Notes: Here comes the twist! And with it, the part Tantz (my beautiful BETA whose stories you have doubtlessly read) owns the most. The plot twist belongs mainly to her, to be honest. Hope you will enjoy it as much as we did. *exchanges conspiratorial glances with Tantz who is smiling evilly* 

****

Precious girl: Thank you! Here's your update. You were the only one kind enough to review the last chap despite it being rather boring. So I would be honored to dedicate this chapter, which is one of my own favorites in the story, to you. *bows*

Tell me what you think. *wink* 

**__**

**__**

Chapter Five:

" Sev… I mean, Professor?" Severus acknowledged him with a sound form his throat. 

" We just passed the gargoyle." 

" Yes. The announcement of the results and the sorting will take place in the Great Hall. It's right here." Severus took a turning and stepped in the Hall through the great oaken doors which opened magically. Angel stared up at the enchanted ceiling, struggling to remind himself not to gape or run into Severus who was now taking his place at the table between Professor Figg and Samuel. 

" Please stand behind the stool, Mr. Riddle, thank you. Minerva, please." 

Professor McGonagall rose and cleared her throat. " The results of the entrance exams of Mr. Angel Mordred Riddle are as follows. 

Potions: A. Charms: A (Distinction), Transfiguration: A. Astronomy: A. History of Magic: B plus. Ancient Runes: A. Herbology: A. Defense against Dark Arts: B plus. Arithmancy: A, Care of Magical Creatures: A. Thus Mr. Angel Mordred Riddle passes the entrance exam and is considered a Hogwarts student. He will be attending Hogwarts in his fifth year, due to personal request." The adults applauded shortly. 

" Welcome to Hogwarts Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said merrily, " now will you please sit on the stool and put on the hat? It will decide what house suits you best." Angel nodded and did as he was told. 

He stiffened a bit when he heard a voice in his head. 

__

' Hello Mr. Riddle. What a pleasure.' 

' What the hell?' Angel thought. 

He heard the same weird voice chuckle. _' I'm the Sorting Hat Mr. Riddle. And you are the only one to hear me.' _

'Why?' 

__

' Because I'm on your head and –in- your head too, currently. Now on with business. Let me see; the second Riddle to enter this school and the thirty ninth of Slytherin's heirs. Your father, Tom, was quite a challenge and so are you; but you are a far more interesting one, I dare say… hmmm… your mind is racing, you are not helping me to focus….'   
Angel was slightly irritated at the Hat talking so disrespectfully and indifferently about the fear of the entire wizarding world, his father. 

' His name is Lord Voldemort, and keep your tongue, or what ever else you talk with, if you value your stitches,' he thought so the Hat could hear.

The Hat chuckled in his head again, almost amiably. _'Ah, you would do such a thing in a room-full of professors?'_

'Watch me do it, if you don't believe,' Angel retorted stubbornly. 

__

'I sense a great need to be loyal to a purpose,' the hat said ignoring his threat completely, _'a cause… ah… perhaps Hufflepuff would satisfy that need? … No no, of course not; not with the horror that has flooded your mind… how about Ravenclaw? But that House is too quiet for your tastes… and although you are intelligent enough, strong emotions can cloud your reasoning. … Ambitious quite a bit, but not as much as your father before… now you are becoming even harder to read than Harry Potter himself… yes, that is the one that you remind me…so similar, and yet so different…not the typical fighter but you will accept it openly if given a good cause…'_

Angel swallowed, not liking to hear himself thus analyzed as if the hat was talking to itself. He wanted the Sorting to end quickly, and he did not appreciate any magical _thing_ rummaging in his head- much less now that it had compared him with _Harry Potter_ of all people. 'Just put me were I belong, stupid thing, and QUICKY,' he ordered the Hat, feeling that the House he belonged to was blaringly obvious… 

And so he did not hear at first, when the hat said, _'as you wish, Mr. Riddle, off you go to the house in which you belong,_ GRYFFINDOR!' 

It was only the stunned silence that made him painfully focus and realize what had just happened. He got up, holding the Hat in his hand, and looked at the gaping Transfiguration professor. He guessed he would appreciate the scene, which had to be rare, if it was any other occasion; but he couldn't even talk, feeling utterly helpless. A single sound of clapping echoed through the hall. Every head was turned toward the headmaster who was standing up and clapping his hands, smiling as if he had just eaten an especially tasty lemon drop. 

"Congratulations, Mr. Riddle. And good luck in Gryffindor," he said happily. 

"Um…sir, I think…there must be a mistake. I'd like to…ask for a resorting perhaps?" Angel said.

"The sorting hat never makes a mistake, Angel. Besides, due to Hogwarts laws, you can't change the results of a sorting ceremony. And there is no such a thing as a 'resorting' I'm afraid." 

" But …it's impossible," Professor Figg said, looking as if she was about to fall out of her chair. Nobody else looked any better, except Dumbledore of course. 

" I'm afraid I don't see your point, Arabella. Very well, Mr. Riddle, we will send you a letter with the list of the items you will need for your school, and also your ticket. Now why don't you go walk around the castle or in the grounds? Hogwarts is a rather fascinating place."

"But…" Angel said feeling miserable and angry at the same time, the Old Fool was playing with him. He looked from Dumbledore to Severus, then to Samuel. Severus was clutching his goblet in a white knuckled grip, as if trying to find a new way of breaking it. Otherwise, he looked as if the whole thing wasn't stranger than owl post; he refused to meet Angel's eyes though. Nott seemed calm, but paler than usual. None seemed about to help, and there was no room for arguments. He turned and walked out, forgetting to hold his chin up. 

Albus watched the boy's indignant face as he marched out of the Hall.

" If there is nothing else you need me with, headmaster," Samuel Nott rose, preparing to leave, "there is some business I could take care of." 

Albus nodded, hoping the Governor wouldn't dare to murder the child right inside Hogwarts. 

"Albus you won't let this happen, will you?" Minerva said when Nott was out of earshot. 

" I don't see what's wrong with it." Albus said, " I don't think his father will appreciate it very much, but as long as I can say we aren't responsible for Lord Voldemort's feelings." 

" Feelings? Are you mad Albus?" Arabella said, looking absolutely disheveled. 

" Well, that's what I'm usually told." Albus smiled amiably. 

" Please be serious! Albus, I was unlucky enough to know his father. We were housemates and were in the same year too. I'm telling you Albus, the boy is a carbon copy of him."

"I don't think so Arabella. And honestly, if we call ourselves the light side, we must feel responsible for saving those we can. The boy is young and pure. He isn't a completely hopeless case yet, and definitely isn't responsible for his father's deeds. Treating him like an explosive object and pulling stunts like what you did today will only help to give him actual proof of what he might have been told. This drives him further toward the dark. I trust you remember how his father was treated at that age because of his Muggle origin. It all resulted into him becoming more and more reserved and thus gave him reason to have a vindictive feeling toward the world; and lure into dark magic to prove himself and get his revenge." 

" Oh yes, we all owe an apology to the Dark Lord." Arabella said sarcastically. 

" We do from one aspect," Albus said thoughtfully. 

**__**

' All he wanted was acceptance and you deprived him from it just due to your stupid prejudices,' The reprimanding voice of his mind said. He tried to banish the thought. 

'It was his own decisions too.' he tried to sooth himself, but it somehow sounded lame, just as always. 

He decided to continue the talk, if only to get rid of his guilt feeling. "Of course I don't approve of Voldemort's deeds, and don't refuse the role of his own decisions. But I always ask myself whether all these disasters would have happened if he had been treated better." Arabella remained silent and looked at her hands. 

**__**

' All he wanted was acceptance. After that terrible childhood of his, Hogwarts was his last hope. You could have done something, but you didn't. Instead you only threw the fact that he was a rejected child into his face, then stood aside for him to choose his own path.' 

' I wouldn't hesitate to help him if…' 

**__**

' If what? You were waiting for a proud Slytherin to come and cry his feelings out in front of the Head of Gryffindor house? YOU were the adult. YOU had the experience. You should have forced him. You should have learnt how to help a Slytherin after all those years of teaching. You were a COWARD! Damn you Albus! You couldn't do what Grindelwald could!' Albus rubbed his forehead. " Eight thirty," he announced as he got up to leave, " in my office. We may have questions that only a certain old Hat can answer."

At half past eight, most of the Hogwarts staff was gathered at the Headmaster's office. 

" Now that everyone is present," Dumbledore beamed at them all as he rose to fetch the old hat. 

" I will never finish this year's song at this rate," It complained. Dumbledore only chuckled. 

" Sorry, I assure we wouldn't even think about disturbing you if it wasn't really necessary." 

" I see," the hat said with satisfaction, " I guess you want some information about Not-So-Young Mr. Riddle." 

" You are right, as always." 

" But I can't." Dumbledore smiled and said," I respect your ethics, dear hat, but I assure you it is of utmost necessity." 

" Alright then," the hat cleared his throat, " so you'd better listen carefully as I won't repeat it." Some of the professors, mainly Snape and McGonagall, seemed to be on the edge of ripping the hat into shreds, but Dumbledore seemed undisturbed. 

" The boy is the second Riddle to enter this school, and one of the hardest ones I dare say, and the thirty ninth of Slytherin's heirs. He was as much of a challenge as almost every one from that line, but was a far more interesting one than his father. Quite intelligent, I dare say, but not a typical Ravenclaw, too emotional for the wise eagles. He won't be afraid of toil to reach his aim, and is loyal too, very loyal. It will be hard to turn him against his father, though he doesn't really approve of his father's ways- unconsciously. He doesn't really know that much. It seems that Voldemort has kept it mostly to theory. He isn't ambitious enough for Slytherin, but has the potential to lead. He has inherited his father's determination and will power, but in other aspects, he is quite different. Almost stubborn, but accepts good reasoning. There was the potential for each of the houses in him, but the most outstanding one is courage, a LOT of courage. He has heard horrible things about aurors and thinks of them as Death Eaters' hypocrite counterparts. He has witnessed Cruciatus just once, an auror; he didn't feel too much pity for the man, but was quite disheveled. He sometimes thinks of you in a very interesting term, Albus. But you have gained some of his trust, if very little. And it might be interesting to you that he can't speak Parsel Tongue, although he understands it. Insult his father if you want to make him really angry, I tried that myself. And…there is a great horror shadowing his past, though I don't think he can remember it, due to a Memory Charm. I think I have told it all now, good night." The hat went quiet. 

" What kind of horror?" Dumbledore asked but the Hat made no reaction. The old man sighed and put it back in its place. " It seems that our old friend here won't say another word." He smiled at all those faces that looked at him with respect and would believe him and follow him in anything and flinched inwardly. " I'm happy he is in Gryffindor, they have proved to accept people easier than Slytherins." 

" We have to inform the Weasleys," Minerva said quietly. 

" You can write a letter to Arthur and Molly, and the Grangers too, and send it along with their school letters; but I'd like to write to Mr. Potter myself, probably first thing tomorrow.Now, if there are no questions, you can all retreat to your rooms. We all have much to think about." He smiled at Minerva as she shut the door behind herself, then leaned back in his chair, concentrating hard to banish unwanted thoughts. 

" I think a mug of hot chocolate would help," he told the empty room and got up to head to the kitchens. That new house elf, Dobby, always knew a way to cheer him up. 

**__**

*****************************

" Mr. Riddle." Angel turned back to see Samuel in the corridor. 

" Samuel?" he had too much on his mind to remember to keep up appearances, or care about it for that matter. 

" I wanted to ask…" the man hesitated for a moment before continuing, " if you don't mind me doing, of course, how did you do it?" Angel rose his eyebrows.

" Fooling the Hat I mean," the Death Eater went on, " it was a really intelligent plan and you performed it excellent, I dare say. Very believable indeed." 

'Damn!' Angel narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step forward, " I think I _do_ mind Nott. What gave you the impression that you could question me?" He asked in an irritated tone. 

" I didn't mean to question you," the pale man answered quickly, " and didn't think you would mind." 

" I didn't know you could actually _think_ at all, very pleasant revelation ,honestly. Now I think I have better things to do than standing here and chattering with _you_. I hope having two days out of the usual haven't made you forget your position completely, or mine perhaps." Angel took the satisfaction of both getting his anger out on someone and harassing the arrogant man at the same time. 

"Not at all," Samuel said, quite taken aback by his speech, " forgive me please." 

" I will consider that," Angel glared at the man, feeling much better than before, " you can go now and prepare yourself. I think there will be a gathering tonight." The Death Eater, half bowed, half nodded before turning and walking away quickly. It wasn't until a few seconds later that Angel understood how true it was. There would certainly be a gathering tonight. 

' Oh no!' he thought worriedly, ' dad will want to spread the great news of me being in my ancestor's house.' He kicked the cobblestones angrily. 'He will be disappointed.' 

He wandered around the place for a long time, trying to get rid of his thoughts, and got lost several times. When at last he found his room, it was half past ten. He went in the room and threw himself on the bed; he didn't understand when he fell to sleep. 

" Wake up, NOW!" Somebody was shaking him violently. 

" What's wrong? Dad?" 

The shaking stopped. A moment later the same voice talked again. " I'm not your father. I'm Severus Snape. It is almost twelve. We need to hurry." 

" Oh," Angel woke up completely. " Alright. Let's go." 

" Wait, drink this first." Snape pushed a vial in his hands. Angel rose an eyebrow. 

" It protects you against some curses, not Cruciatus, but it's better than nothing." 

" And what curse, care say, I must be protected against?" the boy snapped. 

" I don't think your father," Angel glared at him, who corrected himself irritably, " _his lordship_, will appreciate the Sorting result very much," 

'oh hell!' He had almost forgotten the matter after his sleep. " Maybe, but do you think he will _torture_ me for that?" 

Severus hesitated for a moment. " Probably not Cruciatus," he said at last, " but if I were you, I would brace myself for some Not-So-Mild consequences." 

" You are NOT me Severus!" Angel said with irritation, starting to get nervous, " nor will you ever be. My position and yours aren't even remotely similar. I definitely won't face anything of the kind you have in mind; _you_, on the other hand, may if we don't get going." 

"Then you have nothing to lose by ingesting that potion DO you, _your highness_?" Snape said, looking positively enraged. Angel decided he didn't want to know just how far he could push the Potions Master. He decided to drink it while having the upper hand. You could never know what to expect from a Death Eater. He grimaced at the vile taste of the liquid and virtually threw the vial at Severus' face. He ran after the Potions Master who was hard to keep up with; as he walked even faster than usual and kept turning and using secret passages from innocent looking entrances. They were just out on the grounds when Severus clutched his arm and hissed. 

" Come on! Let's hurry." Angel said, pulling the man along toward the forest. He didn't want anything nasty happen to the Professor, and it certainly would if they didn't hurry; dad would be pissed off enough even without them being late. As soon as they reached the border of the anti-apparation field, Severus pushed up his left sleeve and touching his wand to the angry black Mark, he apparated them away. 

**__**

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter Six

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Author Notes: Sorry for the delay in update and IMMENSE thanks to all who reviewed.

**__**

Chapter Six:

"You are late," was the first thing they heard when they apparated in the middle of the whole inner circle. 

"Forgive me my lord." Severus said, falling to his knees. 

"What was the cause of your delay?" 

"I was asleep." Angel answered calmly, " Severus had a hard time waking me up." 

His father smiled evilly. "He should have considered it beforehand then. CRUCIO!" The blood-curdling scream was as unnerving as always, even more when coming from the usually calm, composed Potions Master. He always felt especially disheveled from the screams of victims of Cruciatus. His father broke up the curse at last, after what seemed to be a very long time. 

"Don't let me down again, Severussss." 

"I won't my lord," the man said, panting for breath, he kissed the hem of his master's robes before taking his place in the circle. If it were any other occasion, Angel would have admired the way the pained man held his back straight. **_'You have your own fish to fry right now,'_** the small voice at the back of his head said. ' Shut up!' he answered it, vowing to curse Severus later for making him so nervous. ' He won't do this to me. Snape's only a paranoid minion who thinks too high of himself. Dad has every right to punish his servants, but not me!' 

"Come here Angel," his father said. He walked forward to his father's throne, willing his father not to ask anything about the Sorting. He knelt and kissed the pale hand before standing straight and looking in the red eyes. 

"How did everything go?" his father asked with an amused smile. 

"Excellent," he answered calmly. 'Please, please dad. Don't ask.' He thought anxiously. 

"Really? I suppose I don't need to ask whether you were sorted in Slytherin or not. But there are some stupid people around us," he glared at his Death Eaters, "who won't accept it before hearing it from yourself." Angel felt he had gone as pale as his father. He considered lying for a moment, 'but father will understand it at last,' he thought desperately, 'he definitely won't like it and everything will be in a mess. Oh Merlin,' Angel had never wished anything more in his life, than being able to speak Parsel Tongue at this moment, it would definitely make the whole thing a thousand times easier. 

"Well?" his father asked, rather impatiently. Angel made his mind, ' who cares about the bloody minions? Dad can always order them to oblivate themselves.' 

"I was sorted into Gryffindor," he said quietly, looking at the stone floor. 

"What did you say?" his father asked. 

He fidgeted a bit before saying, this time in a louder voice," I said the foolish Hat sorted me into Gryffindor." He looked up to look at his father, who was standing now, and instantly regretted it. There was disbelief on the face and a moment later it all turned into anger. Voldemort looked frighteningly furious. 

"SNAPE," he growled. 

"Yes my lord," the tall man answered, looking respectfully at the floor. 

"IS IT TRUE?" 

"Yes, my lord." There was no hint of worry or fear in the man's respectful voice. Apparently Severus didn't think it was one of the " unexpected happenings" he was going to be held responsible for. His father gritted his teeth for a moment; then turned to Angel and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look in his eyes. The anger turned into an evil smile. ' It's just the bloody shape of the new face. He is merely smiling.' Angel tried to persuade himself. 

"We can't be sure though," his father said thoughtfully, " the Old Fool might be powerful enough to do something to the Sorting Hat. Or probably charming another old hat to do almost the same thing but be controlled by its maker. I myself once did something of the kind." The Dark Lord smiled evilly and released Angel. 

"Lucius," 

"Yes, my lord." 

"Where is your…ah, _special gift_?" 

"In the prison, my lord." 

"Good, send your goons to bring it then." 

"Yes my lord." Lucius said before barking orders at Crabbe and Goyle who hurried to a door. They reappeared a moment later, each holding a young woman's arm, dragging her on the floor. She was in a surprisingly good state for somebody kept in those prisons. That auror whose torture angel had witnessed once had been kept in the same place and was almost unrecognizable from the tortures. 

The woman kept kicking and screaming. "Don't touch me. NO! Please, let me go. LET ME GO!" She was wearing a strange kind of clothing. ' Muggle cloths, probably,' Angel thought, feeling pity for the beautiful woman, not older than twenty-five. 

He had to break his gaze from her when his father started to talk. "I'm rather disappointed of you Angel." The boy hung his head again. " But perhaps you can make for it by…proving your loyalty to me?" 

"What do you mean?" Angel asked, confused. 

"Kill her." 

"What?" 

"You heard me." He just stared at his father in disbelief. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Angel looked at the woman who had stopped kicking and was staring at them, her sea blue eyes filled with tears…and horror too. 

Angel's mind was racing. "I'd really love to, my lord," he looked up at his father with pleading eyes, but managed to keep it out of his voice for the minions' sake, " but as long as I remember, a wizard will not be able to cast the killing curse before at least the age of seventeen." 

"Stop playing around, son. It won't work." His father smirked. "You know fully well that you are magically thirty, not fifteen." 

Angel looked up at his father's smirking face and whispered, " we have had this talk before." 

"I don't care. Kill her or die." 

It looked as if Severus' prophesy was too optimistic. "You can't be serious." 

"Can't I?" his father said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the woman. "CRUCIO!" he said, without even looking at his victim. The scream echoed through Angel's mind. He was frozen, unable to move, just like the last and first time he heard a Cruciatus curse being cast. He looked in the red eyes that were gazing into his. 

'_Like a snake hypnotizing its prey_…' 

He didn't know where that thought came from. But he had a horrible sense of déjà vu. He felt it had all happened before. The scream, a woman's screams echoing in his ears. The sea blue eyes filled with horror. The red eyes with their hypnotizing gaze. It had all happened before. "Mom," he whispered and his eyes widened. Where did _that_ one come from? Fortunately the Death Eaters hadn't heard him over the woman's screams, but his dad had and was now rising a non-existent eyebrow. He shut his eyes, willing himself to remember. He felt extremely hot. **_'It's the fire,'_** he thought, 'what fire?' **_'The fire from the house, it was burning.'_** Evil cackles echoed through his mind, it was dad, it had to be. He was the only one who could laugh such a cold, mirthless laughter. His breathing became fast; he could feel the sweat on his forehead. He struggled to remember but felt like he was hitting himself to a wall. He concentrated, harder than ever before. And suddenly it felt as if a door was opened in the dark wall, and memories flooded into his mind…

… _"You really thought you could run away forever baby?" the mirthless voice asked. _

"Get away, get out of my house. Leave me alone!" 

"Mummy, what's up? Who's that man?" the little boy asked from the door, looking with surprised innocent eyes from the man to his mother and the long stick she was pointing at the man. 

"NO!" his mother yelled. But the man pulled out a stick from his own pocket and muttered something. His mother fell to the ground, looking at the boy with wide sea blue eyes. 

"Oh little one," the man said softly, kneeling to be in eye level with him. " What's your name?" 

"Angel. What's wrong with mummy?" 

"Oh she is just sleeping. Your name is Angel? Of course, you ARE a dear little Angel, aren't you?" 

"But her eyes are open." 

"Yes. She has a weird way of sleeping doesn't she?" 

"But mummy always shuts her eyes when she sleeps, and she never sleeps on the floor." 

"Maybe she needs some change then?" Angel looked at the man, then at his mother. Her blue eyes were filled with…fear, a lot of fear. He had never seen mummy be afraid of anything like that, she wasn't even afraid of scary films that he wasn't allowed to watch. He looked back at the man, who was smiling. 

"No!" he said. " You are bad, you hurt mummy." He hit the man with small fists, struggling to get away from his vise-like grip. 

"My lord?" a voice from the other room said. 

"Listen little one," the man whispered, tightening his grip. "I will do something to look scary. But it is only a trick. Don't be afraid alright?" He then waved a hand in front of his face and suddenly he looked different. His eyes changed. They became red with black, thin pupils like a cat's. The angry color stood out on the man's pale face and sharp, handsome features. Angel was so afraid he couldn't talk. 

"I'm here." The man said in a cold voice that made Angel's blood freeze. Three cloaked figures came in the room. 

"What are we supposed to do now my lord?" one of them asked respectfully. 'My lord?' Angel thought as he looked up at the pale man. 'Is he a king?' 

"Burn the house and have some fun with the woman." 

"Yes, my lord." They said all together. They brought out their own sticks. One of them waved his and his mummy suddenly moved again, she tried to get up. She looked at Angel and was about to say something when the masked figure pointed the stick at her and yelled, "CRUCIO!" There was a red light and she screamed, like never before. She screamed like she was dying, like an animal was ripping her into shreds. He struggled to get free and go there to help her, but the thin fingers' grip was so strong. 

"Don't worry little one," the man hissed, and somehow Angel felt others didn't understand the hiss. "As soon as we get home, I will do something that you forget this all." 

"Who are you?" Angel said in a crooked voice. 

"I'm your daddy." Angel looked into the red eyes. He remembered a documentary he had watched on TV just last night. 'Like a snake hypnotizing his pray,' he thought. He felt hot, he understood that the house was burning. He locked his gaze to the man's, tears streaming down his cheeks… 

…Tears were streaming down his cheeks. The screams had finished. He opened his eyes to look into his father's. There was a smile on the thin lips. He looked at the woman; she was under a body bind, her eyes wide with horror. 

"You remembered then," his father said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

"Yes."

The evil smile grew. "I must say I'm so proud of you, Angel. Memory charms are difficult to fight with, and the one I had put on you was an especially strong one. Now do as I told you." 

"I WON'T," he shouted, shaking all over. 

"My, aren't you brave?" his father said calmly. "Perhaps the Hat DID have a point in its choice. But it doesn't change many things. Avada Kedavra!" Angel didn't look at the girl as the green light hit her. He was gritting his teeth, doing his best not to give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream and plead. He walked back to his throne and sat down gracefully, petting Nagini on the head. 

"And you will soon admit that it's not a good idea to confront me or shout at me. There are absolutely no exceptions. CRUCIO!" 

Angel fell to the ground, screaming in agony. When the curse broke at last he was panting for breath, his throat hoarse. He stood up as fast as he could, drawing out his wand and pointing it at his father, his vision clouded with tears. 

"Fumato!" His hand was shaking and he couldn't aim. The spell went toward Lucius who dodged it and draw out his wand, along with many other Death Eaters. Voldemort stopped them with raising a hand. Angel gritted his teeth, held his wand with both hands, trying to steady it. He shook his head to clear his vision from the after effects of the Cruciatus. 

"Myodulerus!" he yelled, the curse wasn't off aim this time. A blue sphere shone around his father for a moment as the curse was absorbed by the shield. He didn't know his father put up a shield during gatherings, it was probably logical but Angel couldn't care less at the moment. 

"Expeliarmus!" Voldemort shouted. Angel was thrown back and hit the wall. At his father's beckon, two Death Eaters came and grabbed his arms. They threw him down on his face in front of the throne. 

He heard his father say, "There will be six rounds. Torture at will but do not kill him. I want to do that myself. Now start!" 

" Lucius! What are you waiting for?" said Voldemort. 

"My Lord," the dark clad figure mumbled, his voice void of its usual confidence. He had never been more confused all his life. The Dark Lord did many seemingly insane deeds but Lucius, being almost killed once for endangering the boy's life, was sure his master was quite fond of the boy. Was it possibly a test of sorts to examine their loyalties? 'What should I do now?' he thought desperately. 'Disobey a direct order or…' he was jerked out of his thoughts by his master's irritated voice. 

"I had never thought I would have to encourage you for your favorite pastime one day, Lucius. Go ahead now, unless you want to face my wrath," the Dark Lord drawled. 

"No my Lord," said Lucius before taking a step forward from his place and raising his wand….

**__**

To Be Continued…


	7. Chapter Seven

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Author Notes: *walks in, head hung in shame* Hi everyone! I know I haven't updated it for what…eighty six years. Sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. I can only hope I haven't lost the precious few readers I used to have. I will try and update once a week (Fridays, probably) from now on. I hope that delays of such length won't be repeated.

As usual, many thanks go to Tantz, my dear BETA, friend and co-writer.

Let's see what happens now :D. 

Oh and one last thing. The last part sounds rather…insane. But it is supposed to be so. If you found it confusing, put it in your review and I'll explain. Reviews are answered in the end.

**__**

Chapter Seven:

Severus stepped forward next, pointing his wand lazily at the boy. "Patrificus Totalus." 

"Good idea Severus," Voldemort said, amused. "Let's show our Gryffindor Angel here how the light side works." 

Angel remembered all those stories about aurors, _'…they put a body bind on those they capture, so they can't scream under torture. It makes the whole thing MUCH more painful, and the victims' screams won't be heard by those not meant to. Some of them die because the body bind makes it slightly harder to breathe, and with the added pain of the torture, it becomes utterly impossible…'_ The Potions Master was the one to laugh last then, Angel waited resignedly for the third Cruciatus that night. But it wasn't that. 

"Ponaderum!" Severus shouted. It hit him full blast, but to Angel's surprise, he felt the effects very faintly; he only felt a tingling sensation, unpleasant, but not painful. 'What the hell?' he thought. And then he remembered, '…not all curses but better than nothing…' the Potions Master was refraining from actually torturing him, but why? Mirth? It seemed incredible. He was a Death Eater, wasn't he? He broke the curse at last, and let up the body bind. Angel widened his eyes in disbelief, but couldn't consider it further as Avery's curse hit him. 

He had thought they would be too proud to use Muggle means of torture, but he had been wrong; the most horrible part had been when some decided to take pleasure in physical abuse. Lucius of all people decided to take advantage of a purely Muggle hooked whip, almost ironic. He gulped as Nott stepped forward. 

'Perhaps I should have treated him better today,' he thought as the Death Eater took out a knife.

Samuel Nott felt extremely confused, and…stupid. He had really believed that the boy had used some strong dark magic to force the hat to put him in Gryffindor, it explained the long delay in the Hat's announcement. And wasn't keeping a closer eye on Potter and possibly killing him the main purpose of Voldemort's son coming to Hogwarts? And then there was this show. It was really confusing. But the first round had passed with only curses and now it was the second round; the one they could use any method they wanted. Nothing had happened during the first. The lord hadn't gone angry or tortured a Death Eater. 

'He really wants to torture the boy then,' he thought. He understood that it was now his turn. 'Not that I mind it very much,' he grinned madly under the mask as he pulled out his knife. He loved nothing more than torturing the helpless, taste the despair of inevitability in their eyes… children were especially effusive in such sentiments. And seeing them in the high and mighty Dark Prince was an extra bonus. The boy hadn't cried under the torture. 'Never mind _child_. You will when I'm finished.' 

It was only the third round, and yet to him it seemed like an eternity. He was now lying motionless on the floor in a pool of his own blood and vomit. It had been inevitable with the pain of the creative curses the Death Eaters threw at him mercilessly; most of them combined from two or more curses, which were definitely painful enough by themselves. It was Severus' turn again. Angel almost sighed in relief as he was put under body bind. The Potions Master would pull the same stunt again. He didn't exactly hear the curse but a moment later a horrible pain engulfed him. He wanted to writhe and scream but couldn't. It was getting harder to breathe. 

'This is how I will die then. Suffocated under a curse,' his agonized mind thought. After what seemed an impossibly long time, the body bind was broken up and so was the curse. But the pain didn't leave. Angel's eyes widened and he screamed. 

The boy's scream made Severus' blood freeze. He had to remind himself not to freeze or shake and step back in a bored manner to his place. The potion's effect had obviously worn off. He resisted the urge to run to the boy's side. He exactly knew how it felt to be cursed under a body bind. He knew how it felt not to be able to scream. It had been Frank Longbottom's favorite. But the boy was still screaming. Why? Even with its full effect the curse's pain shouldn't last for more than half a minute. He then remembered. Lucius had used Nevra Incedus. He kicked himself mentally. Convulsis would have long lasting effects if mixed with that. It would continue for hours, HOURS. He was at the edge of casting a certain unforgivable on himself when he understood that the Dark Lord was talking to him. 

"It was…beautiful Severus; intelligent as always, I see. You quite pleased me." He bowed curtly, trying to find a way to block his ears from both the father and the son.

"Creative today, are we Severus?" Voldemort drawled during the fifth round, unsatisfied. "Don't you have any amusing potions?" 

"I do, my lord." Severus said, pulling out a vial from one of the various pockets of his cloak. He walked up to Angel; just as he was about to pour it down his throat, Voldemort interrupted. 

"Wait," he said. Snape looked up at the Dark Lord and so did Angel. 

'I knew, I knew,' he thought. It would all end now. Dad had regretted it. 

"Bring it here," Voldemort said. Severus got up and walked to the throne. He fell to his knees and held the vial up for his master. 

"What does this exactly do?" 

"It burns the inner membrane of the stomach and results into horrible aches." 

"Really? How much is the dose?" 

"One gulp would suffice, my lord." 

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. "Are you telling the truth Severus?" 

"Yes, my lord." 

"You'd better do. Your long stay with the Old Fool hasn't created some stupid feelings in you that I'd rather not name, or changed your faith in me; has it my dear professor?" 

"Never, my lord." 

"We'll see how true it is. Wormtail?" 

"Yes my lord." The small man stepped forward. 

"Take a gulp." Severus was more than satisfied to see him whimper and go pale. 

"B-but… m-my lord…" he stuttered. 

"You aren't very fond of that pitiful life of yours then, are you?" 

"N-no, my lord…I mean yes my lord." He crawled forward shakily and took a gulp. He seemed undisturbed at first but then he writhed on the ground, screaming and vomiting blood. 

"Excellent Severus. I'm glad you haven't changed as much as some of your brothers think you have. Go ahead." 

"Thank you my lord." 

"Shut up Wormtail, I have more interesting screams to listen to right now. Patrificus Totalus." Wormtail froze but tears kept streaming from his rat-like eyes, dripping to the floor. Blood poured from his mouth, staining the hem of his master's robes. But Voldemort didn't pay attention as he watched Severus pour the potion down his son's throat. A moment later blood curdling screams echoed through the halls.

During the last round he couldn't even scream, as his throat was awfully hoarse with the added dryness courtesy of Severus' potion. He had just soundlessly writhed on the ground locking his gaze to the red eyes after every turn, in a wish to find there something to hold on, something that resembled fatherly warmth or regret or at least the reason of this horrible show. But there was nothing, except for utmost cruelty, and the evil crooked smile playing on the thin pale lips. Was being a Gryffindor that great a sin? 

A question far more painful than the tortures themselves echoed through his head for all the time: _why?_

The sixth round had finished at last by Lucius, this time much more confidant than he and others had been in the first rounds. His father rose from his chair and stalked toward him. Now wearing Nagini around his thin neck. 

"Sssssorry young maaassssster,' she hissed sadly. "I tried to dissssssuade him but..." 

"Shut up pathetic reptile!" his father hissed angrily, hexing the snake's jaws shut. "Now you don't think I will let you die just that easily, son. Do you?" asked his father with feigned amusement. 

Angel inhaled deeply and willed his lungs to co-operate to ask, "why?" 

"Why do I kill all those other people?" Angel had never known the answer. But it was different.

He used his last bit of strength to say, "but I'm your son." 

"You are a LOSER," the Dark Lord spat. "You can't be my son." Angel moaned as his father's heavy boot was pressed against his chest. Voldemort leaned down on his knee, trying to put even more pressure on the broken ribs. He continued to talk, this time in Parsel Tongue. 

"You never were." He savored the hurt look in his son's eyes. "You were always more like her, both in manners and looks. I DID try to save you but you refused to accept, you were too foolish for it. Just like her. She took you and ran away to the Muggle world, thinking that I couldn't find her there. How very foolish of her. And now you…I think those two years were enough for the Muggles to corrupt you with their filth. You are a shame to me, and to Salazar Slytherin. You can't even speak Parsel Tongue." He smiled like a boa. 

He continued in English, "I disown you here and now. I refuse that you are my son, or Salazar Slytherin's heir. Die. And may your pathetic spirit be damned forever." 

Angel didn't understand that for the second time that night he was crying. He had screamed, writhed, shrieked, moaned and struggled during the torture but hadn't cried. Tears found their way down his bruised face, mixing with the blood and dirt. His father's expression changed a bit, but only to turn into a mirthless smirk. Angel locked his eyes stubbornly with the red ones of the Dark Lord as he slowly rose his wand and muttered, "Translocus Morbis!"

*************************

There was a blur of different colors before his face hit damp soil and he immediately passed out. He woke up after a while. The events of that night rushed to his mind, the dungeon, the tortures, his father's cool, ruthless voice and expression, his mother's helpless screams. 

"Dad," he called desperately, praying to all powers listening that it had all been a nightmare and he was safely back in his room. He opened his eyes only to find out that he couldn't see anything 

'I'm blind then.' He thought fearfully, then tried to remember the last curse. 

'Translocus Morbis … I'm sure I have heard about it before,' he thought, his eyes getting wide with horror when he remembered at last. If he could remember correctly, the curse moved you to one of the most dangerous places the caster could think of. 

Hearing the sound of an animal breathing, he unconsciously reached for his wand, only to find it missing. He tried to back away but regretted it instantly. The pain that filled his body the moment he moved almost made him scream. He used one surprisingly useable arm to drag himself along, away from the sound. Stopping after each effort to rest. The breathing turned into a threatening snarl. He dragged himself faster despite the protest of his body. The animal came nearer, now he could now feel its warm breath on his chest. He reached out his hand to continue the dragging process when his hand touched some thing soft. It wrapped around his arm and he was dragged away at a horrendous speed. And everything went black again.

********************

" Hello there! How 're ye guys?" Hagrid called as he passed the opening in which the acrumantula lived. 

"Hello Hagrid! Would you like to join us for dinner?" Aragog answered. 

"Nah thanks, I have hunted my own." Hagrid said, patting the stag on his shoulder. "Bye for now." He froze in his track when he saw what was the big spiders' _dinner_. A boy was stuck in the middle of the web. He was half-naked, with ridiculous pieces of torn clothing that hung on his bloody and bruised body fluttering in the wind. He wasn't struggling though; he was either unconscious or already dead. 

"No! Wai' a min' there! That's only a kid!" 

"It is one of your kind Hagrid, but right now he is our food," Aragog said in his deep voice. 

"Nah. Wait," Hagrid threw the stag he had hunted only few minutes ago to the ground. "Eat this instead! It's still fresh. 'Caught 'im just a min' ago." 

"Hagrid, I can't…." 

"Oh c'mon Aragog! It's just as good an' has much more meat then the skinny kid." After a little more discussion Aragog gave in grudgingly. Hagrid picked up the boy carefully and dashed as fast as he could towards the huge castle of Hogwarts.

***************************************** 

Lord Voldemort walked down the dark corridors in long angry strides. He stopped in front of a finely oriented door. The _different_ door. All the doors in the household were black and ebony or gray and iron about the prison. All except this, which was a light shade of brown. The boy had said he was sick of all the black. And stranger than that, he had changed it for the boy's desire, had been forced to do so. He smirked. How had a six-year-old boy _made_ him, the greatest wizard of all times, to change a door's color? 

He gritted his teeth and swore in Parsel tongue. He shouldn't have spoilt him. He remembered it clearly. The boy had said he wanted his room red or blue. He had snapped at him but the boy had been more stubborn. He had pouted, cast his infuriating puppy eyes and refused to eat or talk. He had gone around breaking things and even poured salt in his coffee. He was sure the house elves would never forget that day. He had killed the one who brought the coffee straight away and tortured the rest to an inch of their pathetic lives. But the important –and astonishing even to himself- point was that…he had done nothing to the boy. He had yelled at him and spanked him and imprisoned the boy in his room with a spell that kept it pitch black. But that was all. He went in the room after three hours, wearing the red eyes and determined to terrify the child into tears. 

He stopped his memories. He didn't want to remember the rest. He didn't want to remember the small shaking boy who had ran up to him, hugged him tightly, cried and mumbled apologies in his robes. He didn't want to remember that he hadn't terrified the boy, that he had untangled the small arms from around his legs wordlessly, and a bit reluctantly, and left without a word, leaving the door open behind himself. He didn't want to remember that he had changed the door's color a week later. He didn't want to remember the happy shriek of the boy as he ran down to his study and shouted thanks and hugged him around the neck despite being hexed thrice at his entrance because of the noise and forgetting to knock. 

His hand wandered to the cold doorknob. He absently thought that the metal used to feel warmer. 

"He isssn't there," Nagini hissed. 

He pulled his hand back, glaring at the snake. "Do you want another hex?" 

"No, Massster." 

"I thought not." He sneered. But the reptile was right…or was she? Yes…perhaps the boy was in his room after all, sound asleep. Yes, he wouldn't believe it. Believing it would make it final. It would mean that…. No. Nothing had happened. He hadn't cast that curse on the boy- on his _son_. It was all one of his crazy nightmares. It just couldn't have happened. Angel was in the room. He surely was. He had to be. He couldn't have done it to his own son, could he? 

He strained his ears to hear his son's calm, heavy breathing, the sound that usually made him…angry. It was calm and undisturbed…confidant, as if no one and nothing in the world could disturb him. He gritted his teeth again. The boy's confidence. The boy's infuriating confidence. He scowled as a memory crept into his mind…

__

He entered the room soundlessly and stopped a few steps from the bed, staring at his sleeping son whose chest moved slowly. His young expression was calm and peaceful, care free…innocent. He scowled. The boy was calm and confident as always. Even more now that he was asleep. He looked like there was no danger or threat in the world. Why should he? He was the son of the greatest and most feared wizard ever to walk on the earth. Who would dare to raise a wand on him? Or perhaps…perhaps there was another reason behind the boy's conduct. He feared no one because he was a threat himself; and he knew it. He pondered the thought. He was sure the boy loved him but had never feared him. He wasn't easy to intimidate. No, he was more than a mere threat. He was a real danger for his power, and was a weakness in himself. He would get rid of it once and for all, just as he had done to the other weaknesses that had once existed in him. He lifted his wand. 

"Ava…." The boy rolled over and yawned, stretching lazily. He opened his eyes. 

"Morning Dad," he said, smiling with his eyes still half shut. Voldemort froze mid curse and lowered his wand, staring at his son's sweet sleepy smile, unable to decide what to think or do. 

"What's the time?" the boy asked. 

"A quarter to seven," he heard himself answer. 

"I'll just go back to sleep then." 

"No," he said firmly. "You get up right now." 

"Just thirty minutes Dad." 

"Now! When I was at your age…" 

"I know I know," the boy groaned, flinging his legs down the edge of the bed. "You got up at one thirty in the morning or something." He yawned. 

"Shut your mouth," he snapped, surprising himself by not hexing the boy. Truth to be told, he couldn't trust himself not to cast the killing curse on the boy instead of a mere hex. Part of his anger was caused by remembering the time when he was at his son's age. It had been much different from what Angel thought. But he couldn't tell him the truth could he? The boy deliberately lengthened the yawn even more, until he thought he himself would break into one at any moment. He scowled as Angel jumped off the bed, grinning and walked to the bathroom… 

He had spoilt the boy. Most definitely. He had raised him into a weak brat. Or perhaps he had raised him to become too strong to be safe…that is to say, controllable. He strained his ears more. Still he could hear nothing. Why did he go to fetch the boy anyway? Why did he bother to look for his ex-girl friend who had escaped to the muggle world? Why on the earth should he have gone and brought his bastard child and raise him? Why didn't he just kill the boy? Had he truly intended to keep Salazar Slytherin's blood from being mingled with muggle filth? Or was it an excuse he had built up for himself later, _after_ he had brought in the child. Did he love…? He banished the thought. Ridiculous. He was beyond such weaknesses. He wasn't even remotely attached to the boy; he tried to persuade himself. 

But he should have got rid of the boy long ago. What ever he had had in his mind, he should have killed the eleven year old boy who had ran out of the Torture Hall like a complete fool as soon as he had heard the Cruciatus curse. He had gone after him after some more minutes, ordering the Death Eaters to continue on their own as he was bored. He had found the boy crouched in a corner, pale and shaking. He had almost hexed the boy but Angel had started crying and said that he was too afraid of the Cruciatus. That his whole body had went hot and his head had filled with a woman's screams. Voldemort, of course, had yelled and hexed him. But from then on he hadn't let the boy hear the screams caused by the curse, in a fear that the boy might remember the whole thing one day. But why had he been afraid of Angel finding out? Afraid? It sounded quite odd and meaningless. He had no fears. Of course not. 

He smiled wryly. Why should he think about all this any way? Angel was in his room, sound asleep. He was sure of that. He hadn't done any harm to him. Those events had never happened. He had never tortured or killed his son. Yes. How could have been so silly to think that he had? He wouldn't go and check though. And it wasn't because he was afraid of the possibility of an empty, accusing bed to be revealed behind the door. No, he told himself, it was the certainty of having to deal with a cranky, insufferable teenager tomorrow at breakfast should he open that door. His long fingers released the door knob. He would not open the door. Tomorrow. Yes. He would talk to his son tomorrow. 

"Good night," he muttered, then turned on his heel and walked down the corridor and several flights of stairs. He could stifle the stubborn thoughts that still refused to leave his mind with some screams. Perhaps he could summon Wormtail and have some fun with the rat. He smiled evilly, forgetting all about teenaged boys and brown doors as he walked into the dungeons.

**__**

To Be Continued…

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Preciousgirl: Hope I haven't disappointed you. Sorry for the delay.

Gracie Lou: Oh! I never thought I could trigger such deep emotions. Thank you. As for Voldemort…well, he isn't exactly sane as you saw in this chapter. He does have emotions for Angel but those are as twisted as everything else about him. 

kurokioku : Five words: Thank you very very much! ^-^ Here's your update!

Atzlanit: Thank you! Glad you liked it.

Lady-Snape: Heh, thanks. Sorry for the delay. Hope you liked this one.=)

Athena : Thank you! Here's more. Glad you liked it. :) 

Shadowycat: Woosh! You definitely know how to write a delicious review! Thanks a lot! About Angel's mom…I can't say much about her just yet but we'll see more of her. My inner eye tells me that some important things will be revealed in a seemingly boring chapter that is bound to come out soon.:D About grammar and spelling: I'm really sorry. I guess my dear BETA is so busy making sure that the story remains as realistic as possible that she doesn't have time nit picking. I hope the problem will be solved soon enough.


	8. Chapter Eight

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Author Notes: OK, somepoints to make:

I will update every Friday. It might take 24 hours for it to actually get on the site. So you'll be safe if you check on Saturdays.

The insane part at the end of last chapter: When starting to gain power, Voldemort went after his ex-girl friend who had escaped to the muggle world. He becomes fond of Angel and as time passes, this fondness turns into fatherly love, or the closest thing he has to that. He is rather insane, so he kills his son (or tries to do so) when he confronts him openly. But afterwards, he deludes himself and refuses to accept that anything had happened. 

As usual, many thanks goes to Tantz, my precious BETA and co-writer whose part in this chapter is as important as the others.

Enough rambling. On with the story!

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Chapter Eight: 

When Severus Snape arrived at Hogwarts it was almost morning. He hesitated for a moment in the Entrance Hall. 

'Should I go tell Albus first?' he thought. The old man had most probably stayed awake all night. He shook his head and headed toward the dungeons. 

He slammed the door to his private quarters open and threw the white mask to the floor, not feeling like hiding it carefully in its place. He walked to the shelves at the opposite side of the room where he kept necessary potions and slammed it open. Rummaging through it, he picked up three vials and drank them one after another. The pain in his stomach diverted his attention from the meeting. He looked at the empty vials. 

'Shouldn't be drank with empty stomach,' he thought. 'Damn!' 

He summoned a House Elf and barked orders at it. The intimidated creature stuttered its, " yes Professor Snape, sir," and bowed twice before popping away. Snape shut his eyes and tried to think about anything but the boy he had tortured. 

'Why did the House Elf bow twice?' 

It seemed an incredibly ridiculous thought, but he stuck to it nonetheless. He realized the cause after a moment. He turned abruptly, wand in hand, ready to curse anybody who had dared to invade the solitary of his chambers to an inch of their life, or beyond. But sitting there on the leather sofa was a very somber looking Albus Dumbledore. 

"I should have guessed Albus," he lowered his wand, " that only _you_ might dare to be so… amusing." 

"Good morning Severus." The pained taint in the headmaster's voice made Snape forget his anger, temporarily. He walked up to the old man. 

"What's wrong this time?" 

"I thought you may want to share something with me." 

"What?" 

Albus wordlessly handed him a scrap of parchment. Snape looked at him skeptically before unfolding it. It was written hastily, in an untidy handwriting he only knew too well. Snape scowled as he read the letter.

__

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I just had one of my crazy dreams. It was about a boy, about my age, that Voldemort called "son." He tortured him a lot and then disowned him and cast a curse on him that I had never heard before. Does Voldemort have a son?

I thought you might know about it as Professor Snape was there too. But Voldemort was awfully furious and I just thought I may write it to you in case Snape couldn't come back.

Harry

PS: I know you trust him but are you sure? He took part in the torture, you know. Gave the boy some strange potion and cursed him. 

Snape felt relieved and angry at the same time. The brat hadn't managed to mind his own business yet again and proved to be in a higher level of idiocy than Snape had imagined. At least he wouldn't have to be the one to give the news to Albus. He looked up at the old man, the muscle in his cheek twitching both from the after effect of the Cruciatus curse and irritation. 

"Well, you have your information don't you? And I managed to come back, much to Potter's chagrin, and yours probably." He regretted the comment as soon as it left his lips. The old man rarely looked so tired and worried, he didn't wish to do more hurt. He was thinking about something else to make for that comment when Albus started to talk. 

"That's not all," he said, looking as old as his age. Snape felt nervous; he always did when Albus switched to his old man persona from the intolerable jolly one he usually was. He raised a questioning eyebrow. 

"The boy is found." Snape felt all blood leave his face. "Hagrid found him in the forest last night. Fortunately, he was just on time to save him from the acromantula's web," Albus continued. 

"Where is he now?" Severus heard himself ask. 

"In the hospital wing. Poppy has done an excellent job, but I'm afraid that he will suffer from different injuries when he wakes up." 

Severus collapsed on a nearby sofa and shut his eyes. 

"Poppy says he will wake up by noon. You'd better get some rest if you will meet him." 

Severus made no reaction as Albus stood up, squeezed his shoulder for a moment and walked out, shutting the door gently behind. Memories of the last night replayed in his head. 

'…I WON'T…' 

The scream sounded so real that he opened his eyes, wondering for a moment whether he was still in the torture room. He sighed with relief when he found out he wasn't. He shut his eyes again. 

'The boy is definitely a Gryffindor,' he thought. He just sat there for a long time, eventually falling to a restless sleep. 

'Why couldn't the boy just die,' was his last thought, ' it would be easier for everyone.' 

Severus woke up with a start, panting for breath. He could feel cold sweat on his forehead. He leaned back when he understood that he was safe in his rooms and not in Azkaban and that the Damned Lord was no where to be seen. He never forgot to take the dreamless sleep potion when he slept, _if_ he slept. 

'Why did I forget? Oh yes.' He looked at the clock on the mantle piece, which showed ten minutes to eleven. He got up tiredly and peeled off his cloak and hid the mask, which was dropped on the floor, safely in its place. His stomach was still aching but he refused to relieve the pain by eating the breakfast that was put on a nearby table. Pain is always helpful when you want to divert your attention. 

**__**

'Besides, it's nothing in comparison to what you did to the boy professor,' his inner voice chided. 

He headed to the bathroom; if anything could help, it would be a long cold shower. Severus gazed at himself in the mirror. His reflection scowled back at him with the same contempt that he always reserved for himself. 

**__**

'Working for the light, indeed. An outstanding display of light behavior, remarkable, Severus. I bet the boy thanks you for all the damage you felt "necessary"' Snape scowled and splashed water to his face. It was the next best thing to spitting at the sneering image in the mirror, but Severus had overcome such dramatic overreactions long ago. The boy's despaired wails still haunted his ears. He still felt the younger Riddle's eyes locked with his, painful, accusing, not understanding… 

'I should have kept him here. I should have come up with some excuse. But I still took him there. I have made it a habit, leading people to their doom….' 

__

… "You are one of my most loyal servants Severusss, I hope those you have brought along will be as loyal." 

"They are, my lord. They are ready to die for you," Snape answered, his voice full of respect and awe. 

"Are they? How can you be sure, then?" 

"We have been close friends for seven years, my lord. I know them quite well." 

" I'm impressed," the Dark Lord said, his mocking tone lost on the young souls kneeling in front of him as a result of the awe that filled their egos. 

"What is your name?" he addressed the only woman between them who was bowing lowest to the ground. 

"My name is your servitude, my lord," she said, not even rising her head. Voldemort laughed. 

"Intelligent, I see. But I meant the name you were christened." 

"Lavinia, my lord. Lavinia Adams."…

He snorted and forced himself to snap out of his ruminations. He had more important things to focus on right now. He stormed out of the room, the boy had to be awake by now.

***********************

Finally, the suffocating darkness started dissolving. With the pain that rushed to engulf him, words filtered through Angel's awareness.

"…Exactly happened?" 

"…Potter…." 

"…Remember…has enough on his mind already…." 

"Yes, and I don't, do I?"

" …Visions…only a child…." 

"…Kill…crying…something about a memory charm…refused…." 

He could hear the sounds of his surroundings like a maladjusted wireless set. But he could make out two men talking; he recognized one of them as Severus. The other was familiar but he couldn't exactly remember where he had heard it. 

'Where am I?' he tried to open his eyes but failed. 

'Body bind?' He remembered last night's events. The last thing he remembered was darkness and an animal snarling. 

'I'm dead then.' But he didn't remember what the animal was, nor did he remember being ripped. 

'Who cares?' But he had always thought that your soul got free when you died. It probably wasn't the case though. 

'Should I remain like this until…forever? Oh, well.' 

"…There is absolutely no humanity left in Tom Riddle then." Someone was insulting his father. He was angry. Who was it who had dared to… 

**__**

' I don't think it's any of your business anymore,' said the annoying voice in his head. **_' He is no longer your father, you know.'_**

'He is!' 

**__**

'Is he? I was under the impression that he –disowned- you.' 

'No! He is still my dad. He had to…keep up appearances.' 

**__**

'I don't think I even need to say anything.' 

A mixture of different emotions welled up in him, but above all: anger. Angel was very angry. Angry at the voice in his head for being right, angry at himself for agreeing with it, angry at his father for…for not having any humanity left in him, angry at the man who had voiced it, angry at Severus for not strangling any body it was, and again angry at himself for not being able to move as much as a finger. He heard several sounds of glass shattering and a short scream from a woman. 

'It can't be another torture session can it?' 

"…He is awake." He heard Severus' angry voice. He realized that breathing had suddenly became impossible. 

'I'm not dead then.' 

**__**

'No, but you will be soon.' 

He heard a choking sound from his own throat and felt the acrid taste of blood in his mouth. Somebody gently turned him to his side. He coughed blood forcefully and opened his eyes, squinting at the light. All he could see was a lot of white in a background of purple. He blinked and looked up to see Albus Dumbledore's eyes shining behind half moon spectacles. 

"You are awake," he said kindly. Angel wanted to comment on the Old Fool's outstanding talent in pointing out the obvious but couldn't muster enough energy. Nor did he have enough time as a gray haired woman came forward. 

"Now, Albus, give him some room. Let me please. Thank you." She huffed, pushing the headmaster away. 

"You are awake then." It seemed to be fairly common in the light side. But Angel couldn't glare as the matron started examining his eyes. He tried to push her back, but she was far too strong. 

**__**

'She isn't strong idiot, YOU are weak!' 

She measured a light colored liquid and poured it in a goblet. 

"Here, drink this." As soon as he took the first gulp of the potion, his stomach curled and he threw it up, along with some blood. He gritted his teeth in pain. 

"I TOLD you the potion is too heavy for him," Severus snapped, "now use what I have already given you woman!" The matron huffed and cleaned the sheets with a wave of her wand. 

"Oh my! All right, all right lie back. There. I'll bring you something else." The woman left to take another bottle from her shelves. "I'm afraid that even the potion you gave me isn't appropriate Severus. Can you please brew another batch of intravenous potions? Mr. Riddle here has almost emptied my supply of them. It seems that he can't keep anything in his stomach. I wonder what curse could have such an effect. Even more so, what curse could last so long." 

Angel stared at the pale tall man, who stared back for a few seconds before the matron came back and blocked his vision, carefully applying a blue paste on his chest. He raised his head to look behind the bending form of the matron, who was muttering under her breath about the atrocity it took to torture a child. Severus had turned around and was looking out of the window; the permanent scowl fixed on his face. The matron straightened and pointed her wand at his chest. 

"Venubra," she muttered. He hissed from the acidic sensation of the potion being absorbed into his veins. 

"Honestly Pomfrey," Severus said irritably, " even _you_ with your questionable degree of skill and intelligence should know that you _shouldn't_ apply the potion on already injured skin." 

"Honestly Severus," she answered with matching irritation, "there is no such a place on the boy's body. His chest is the least injured and most healed part. And please note that I'm NOT one of your _unfortunate_ students. If you have doubts about my skill and intelligence, you'd better pray I will feel like helping you next time you came back at some ungodly hour, hardly able to breathe." Snape sneered and turned back again. Angel turned his attention to the headmaster whose lips were pursed in a hard line. He looked quite intimidating when glaring, Angel thought absently as he felt he was now watching the powerful player at last. The old man's expression softened as he realized that Angel was watching him. 

"It's alright my boy," he said kindly, " you have done nothing wrong. It's others who did this to you that I'm angry at. Relax, you are safe among friends here." The old man smiled kindly. Angel pursed his lips both from the stinging sensation of the potion and the anger and indigence that filled his mind. The Old Fool was abysmally wrong if he thought he would tolerate being pitied. He pushed the woman's hand away with more force than necessary and buttoned the shirt himself. It took him a good bit of time to finish the seemingly simple task as his hands were shaking violently, but he refused to accept the woman's help. 

"How are you feeling Angel?" The Old Fool again. 

"Just ecstatic," he snapped, but the old man seemed immune to it, as he neither flinched nor showed any other sign of being snapped at. 

'He is playing with me again.' Angel was at the edge of getting up from the bed and giving the old man a black eye when he caught sight of the Potions Master who was staring at him again, a strange expression on his face. He followed the black eyes and saw the crisscrossing lines from whips and knives on his chest and a big healing bruise near his collarbone, showing as the loose buttons had come undone again. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Severus had been there when Dumbledore had insulted his father. _He _had told the Old Fool what had happened last night. _He_ had informed others from Angel being awake and had sounded quite less than pleased about it. The potion…Angel remembered. Severus had given him a potion. To shield him from as much pain as possible. He had refused to really torture him last night, well almost. No other…Angel's eyes widened as more pieces kept completing a picture he had never imagined could exist about the Potions Master. Dumbledore seemed to trust him quite, at least more than Nott. And what was this thing he remembered about him being saved from Azkaban by Dumbledore himself? Was it possible that…he remembered his talk with his father, 

__

"…I don't believe all that Lucius tells about him but his faith might be wavering…" 

He felt he was now shaking all over. 

"Alright Angel, lie down a bit." He barely heard Dumbledore. The Potions Master seemed to be getting more and more uneasy under his accusing gaze. Angel gritted his teeth and activated the Dark Mark, as painfully as he could. Severus hissed and bent over his arm, then straightened painfully. Dumbledore made a sudden movement, as if to get to the man's side but stopped abruptly, staring at Angel. He didn't need anymore proof.

"Traitor," Angel snarled, taking no notice of the shock this single word brought to the three adults in the room. 

"TRAITOR!" he yelled. Angel faltered. He repeated the word, but averted his eyes from Snape and Dumbledore. His lips moved weakly, as he continued talking, and every word hurt more than Malfoy's whip or Avery's curses. 

"You sold me away…" he said, almost to himself. He didn't exactly make out Severus' reaction, as his vision was blurry. 

'I'm probably putting too much energy in this,' said the logical part of his mind, but its voice was stifled under the waves of anger. 

"You sold me away for your social status." He realized he was repeating his father's words. "You did. Dad was right." He was stunned; it was exactly what dad had done himself, wasn't it? He couldn't move, couldn't talk either, and he didn't want to think; but the thoughts kept coming, relentlessly revealing to him what he did not want to know. 

'No, no, NO.' He realized he had said the last one aloud. 

"He knows then," he heard Severus' voice. He looked up to the Potions Master. 

"W-what?" Pomfrey put a hand on Severus' arm but he shrugged it away angrily. 

"I said your father knows about my…" 

"…treachery," he said. Severus almost flinched but Angel didn't notice. He hadn't meant Severus…or had he? He felt confused. He had meant it, initially… but what Snape was or wasn't, was unimportant now and he was not the traitor that Angel had been thinking about…not really, not in the end. He had meant another treachery, another traitor. He shook his head to get rid of the black spots dancing in front of his eyes. 

"Why?" he said in a wavering voice. 

"You don't understand," Severus said in an oddly quiet voice. 

"Do you?" There was a pause during which all eyes in the room were turned to the tall man. 

"I think so," he said at last, his lips barely moving. 

"Tell me then." 

"I said you won't understand." Severus slammed his hand on the bedside table. 

"Severus. Control yourself. Anger is not the …" Dumbledore said, but Angel interrupted. 

"I have every right to know," he said in a weak tone that was meant to be a yell. "What wrong had I done? Just because a foolish hat felt like putting me into Gryffindor?" 

"What are you talking about?" Severus' voice wasn't as angry anymore, if a bit confused. 

"Why? Why did he betray me? I loved him, why did he hate me back?" he shouted helplessly. He felt there was something amiss in the room's atmosphere but couldn't put his finger on it. He could hardly make out things any more. 

"Lie back child." A voice said as a purple figure neared. He slapped away the hand that was put on his shoulder. But it came back again and pushed him down. 

"Lie. Back." The voice said clearly and firmly. 

He obeyed.

**__**

To Be Continued…

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Reviews! Reviews! Reviews!

Preciousgirl: *waves* I knew you wouldn't leave. As for update schedule, I think I put it in last chap's A/N. Anyway, I'll update every Friday. It can take 24 hours for it to actually get on the site though so I guess you'd be safe if you checked on Saturdays, if you can use the library then. Oh and thanks for the 9. I'm beside myself that you found no other fault worth point taking than the delay. :D. Good luck in college! 

Shadowycat: LOL! Hee hee! Sorry, I just had this mental image of Voldie pulling Crabbe and Goyle Snr. in a la Molly fashion hug. Heh. Seriously though, his love (or the closest thing he has to that) is not something that he gives every one. Angel is the only person who has ever had it, along with another certain individual who will be introduced in the next chapter. And yes, he _is_ mad. Hagrid to the rescue :D Glad you liked it.

Meneharma: *flush* Err…well I needed to keep Angel alive, and making him survive daddy's AK would be just pushing it too far. As for the insane part at the end of last chapter, see the A/N. Glad you liked it. :) Hope you liked this one better. As for not being afraid of saying Voldemort's name: **[teasing]**you might note that all people we know that can say his name are Gryffs. In other words, no Slyths, not even Snape *grins more evilly than any decent Huffle should be allowed to do* **[/teasing] **

RobinoftheForest: Man, I didn't think it could be _that_ touching. Here's your update. And thank you for the "brilliant." Hope you liked this bit too. =)

AuroraRose : YAY! Thanks! And yes, Voldemort isn't sane one bit. And Angel IS good, as for forgetting his father…I think this chapter gave you a clue. *hint hint* ;)

rayvern : Short and straight to the point. Are you a Slytherin? ;) Thank you. I was very worried about the torture scene. I read torture but can't write it really well. Glad you liked it.

Gracie Lou : Thank you! Here's your update. Hope you'll like it. =) 

kurokioku : Many words: Single brain cell out for repair. Can't think of something appropriate to say. So I'll just say thank you. Here's your update. ;)

Tantz: *shakes Snape's hand warmly* I just wanted to express my gratitude, professor. Heaven knows what else she would have given out hadn't it been for you. Can we have a drink? :D 


	9. Chapter Nine

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Author Notes: This chapter can be a tad bit…boring. But it also contains a flashback that my BETA, Tantz, (who saved this chapter from a pointless backtalking to a sincere talk) found interesting. Tell me what you think about it.

One thing: I've written another story. A short one shot named "Friendship" about Snape's time in Hogwarts. It would be great if you read that.

**__**

Chapter Nine: 

He woke up to the sound of someone humming a strange lyric under his breath. He didn't open his eyes until two minutes later. The light was thankfully less bright than before. He turned his head to see Dumbledore beside his bed, smiling as always. 

'Doesn't he have anything better to do than pestering me?' he thought. 

"Good morning Angel." Angel hesitated. 

"What is the time?" he asked without meeting the headmaster's eyes. 

"Three O'clock in the morning." Angel paused. 

Dumbledore was ready to say something else when the boy asked in that low, guarded voice, "don't you ever sleep?" 

"Well, old people need less sleep to say the truth." 

Another lengthy pause followed. This time, however, Dumbledore was prepared to wait him out. 

Indeed, quite a few minutes later, Angel asked again, "why stay here? Aren't you supposed to be trying to kill… him… and send me to...," he shut his eyes, "…to Azkaban?"

Albus had to struggle hard not to flinch. The boy's voice was empty. There was no trace of sadness, anger or any other emotions in his tired voice. He sounded…resigned, if anything. 

"Nobody's going to send you anywhere, much less that horrible prison," he said kindly, gently putting a hand on the boy's arm. Angel only snorted bitterly, unconsciously shrinking away from the old man's touch, as if guarding for potential blows. 

"I was serious…and honest." Angel's eyes flashed open. 

"Nice try," he said, this time his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm, and shut his eyes again. The following pause was so long that made Albus wonder whether the boy was still awake. As if on cue, the boy opened his eyes tiredly, his unfocused gaze swinging around the room. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he said gently. 

"No." The boy answered shortly, turning his head to the pillow. 

Albus was thankful that the boy wasn't looking at him, with those gray blue eyes that reminded him strongly of a pair he had tried hard to forget for so long. He had had no problem during the tests, when the eyes were filled with life and determination. He was afraid of what he would see in them now…or better said what he wouldn't. He wasn't sure he could look in empty accusing eyes, staring up at him. Reminding him of the identical unmoving pair, staring lifelessly up at him in a battlefield. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, he had been simply ecstatic about the boy; he had sounded promising, all those uplifting signs as well as the sorting result. And now this: a hopeless, desperate and bitter child who would probably have more reasons to go dark than his father did. 

'He won't,' he vowed silently, 'not until I'm alive.'

Meanwhile, Angel had different thoughts. He felt decidedly frustrated. 

'How can one persuade an old fool to leave them alone?' Angel asked from himself. 

**__**

'Especially when he is being so disarmingly and infuriatingly kind?' A voice in his head added wryly. He scowled, becoming even more frustrated, if possible. He desperately needed to cry, but it was impossible. He would be damned if he showed the slightest bit of weakness in front of his father's greatest enemy. 

**__**

'Does it matter anymore? It's not like you truly care at this point… or do you?' He was too tired to think about it. 

"Please, leave me alone." He mumbled from the pillow. 

"But you need to talk if you want to come over it…to survive." Angel surprised himself by actually laughing. But there was honestly no better answer. 

'Oh yes! Of course I want to survive and live my life tolerating your sympathetic gazes and foolish smiles as the Dark Lord's disowned son in Gryffindor…rejected by both sides.' 

**__**

'Not that I care being rejected by the light…I have nothing to lose do I?' Angel swallowed a sob. He understood too late that he had said the last part aloud.

The dry laughter made Albus' blood freeze. It wasn't a good sign. And a few seconds later, the boy voiced a thought he himself had bore for so long, but had never dared to say it aloud. He had feared that the answer would be negative and he would be driven insane at last, he had always banished the thought with different excuses. The boy was braver than he was then; he _was_ a true Gryffindor. 

"You have no right to think like that," he said firmly. It was probably too harsh to state it like that, but the boy needed some life be jolted into him. Angel turned toward him again, it was obvious he was having trouble focusing, but his glance was mistrusting and unbelieving regardless. He was actually happy to see the anger fill the boy's eyes again. 

"I have no _right_? _I_ have no right? And would you care to say why is that?" 

He smiled calmly; he liked outbursts. Imprisoning emotions inside you would result in frustration. Severus was a live example. 

**__**

'He shows it, at least. But imprisoning frustration will result in insanity.' He banished the thought with ease gained by years of practice. 

"Because you are only fifteen. You haven't even started your life yet. There are so many things you have to experience. If you do that you understand that the world isn't that dark a place. There is always hope. Besides," he hesitated, the words refusing to leave his throat. The boy's untrusting gaze met his eyes and made him blurt out, "that's the same thing that made your father become…what he is." 

The boy arched his eyebrows. 

Angel hadn't expected that one. He had always thought it was only the pronounced thirst for power that sometimes harbored on insanity, but now it sounded quite different. 

"Why did he think so?" he heard himself ask. Had dad been through the same ritual? 

**__**

'Who cares?' 

'I do.' 

**__**

'And why?' 

'I don't know.' 

**__**

'You are grasping at the straws. You only want to find a reason to live. To regain some worth.' 

'What's wrong with living?' 

He marveled at how he had managed to win in a discussion against the annoying voice, at last. He turned his attention back to the headmaster who was now looking in empty space, with no twinkle left in his eyes. 

"I'm not sure," he answered, "he wasn't very popular between his fellow Slytherins, because of his Muggle origin. Considering his father, he felt…rejected. I admit that he struggled hard to prove himself, he was always the first in his class, prefect and later head boy, a complete model student. Perhaps everything would have changed if someone gave him the acceptance he always longed to get. Then he turned dark. The more evil he became, the stronger the thought got in his mind." 

There was a mutual silence before Angel said quietly, "he doesn't _want_ to have anything to lose, that's why he tried to kill me…and my mother too." 

It didn't help very much to make the situation easier, and he didn't know whether he should believe the headmaster or not, but was better than nothing. Dad had said he was the most popular boy in the school at his time. But the lie fit with the acceptance thing. He shut his eyes and wished for the thousandth time that it were all a horrible nightmare. He remembered a talk he had had with his father on a night he had seemed to be a little…out of character. But could he trust the Old Fool with his father's private affairs? He sighed.

Albus was on the edge of a break down. He was tired and his mind was unfocused. 

**__**

'Liar.' 

'I didn't lie.' 

**__**

'Not saying the truth is hardly different.' 

'It will damage the boy even more.' 

**__**

'That's not the reason. You lied because you are a coward.' 

'The boy will lose his trust in the light.' 

**__**

'The boy will lose his trust in YOU.' 

The boy's wavering voice jerked him out of his ruminations, "he doesn't _want_ to have anything to lose, that's why he tried to kill me…and my mother too." 

Albus had to admit he was impressed by how wise the young boy sounded. But a moment later, the boy voiced the old man's dread. 

"I thought he had a grand father who loved him." 

Albus cursed himself for changing the topic. He felt a big old lump in his throat. Why? Why did the boy have to say this? He closed his eyes, invaded by old memories…

__

… The gray haired man stood straight, no sign of fear evident in his figure. His wand was dropped a few feet away, snapped in two. His gray blue eyes locked with a light blue pair behind cracked half moon spectacles. 

"Finish it Albus." 

Albus pursed his lips and steadied his wand. 

"You are cruel." 

"I know I am." The shorter man smiled at his former friend's misery. 

"I won't," Albus said as he lowered his wand. "I can't do this." 

"Why?" 

"You know why," Albus snapped. 

"All I know is that I would do this if I was the one who had the wand." 

"You wouldn't. You are lying." 

"Am I?" 

Albus avoided the other man's eyes, knowing that they would confirm their owner's truthfulness. 

"Do it, for my sake," Marvolo said in a soft voice. " They will give me the dementor's kiss." 

Albus felt he was standing in front of his best friend again. 

"I can't." 

"You can. You must. Please Albus, I can't bear it." 

None of them moved as many shouts and moans were heard. 

"Dementors! RUN! Run for your life!" 

Albus shut his eyes and rose his wand. 

"Thank you," Marvolo said in a soft, almost inaudible voice.

"Damn you!" Albus replied, feeling more miserable and angry that he ever had in his life. "Avada Kedavra!" 

"NOOO! Marvolo!" 

Albus looked up to see a very young man, hardly twenty years old, pointing his wand at him, tears streaming down his pronounced cheeks. 

"Murderer!" 

"Tom…listen." 

Albus hesitated. He usually had something to say, but this one was an exception. He was simply speechless. What could he tell the boy he had just orphaned for the second time? He looked down at Marvolo's lifeless body, into his eyes, which now seemed to be made of colorful glass. 

He heard Tom's angry voice shout, "Avada…" 

His life-preserving drive kicked in and he disapparated before the green light was shot… 

"Are you still there?" the boy's quiet voice jerked him out of his thoughts. 

He nodded and, noticing that the boy's eyes were shut, he added, "yes." They were both silent for some uneasy seconds before the boy talked again. 

"Was it something I said?" Albus inhaled deeply. 

"Does your father talk much about his grand father?" 

"No. But he once said the man had been one of the greatest people of all times." The boy opened his eyes and looked at him "Why do you ask?"

Albus took a deep breath, as if gathering all his strength, before continuing in a quieter voice, determined to get out with it once and for all. 

"I once had a friend, my very best friend, who betrayed me…betrayed us all. During the war against Grindelwald, he turned against us and joined him. He was one of the people who helped Grindelwald most to gain power, his second in command. His name was…" 

Albus lingered. 

"Marvolo Saulson," the boy said in a strange voice, an unreadable expression on his face. 

There was a pause before Angel asked, "what happened to him?" 

"He was…killed," Albus breathed softly. 

In the tentative pause that followed, Angel peered at the elderly wizard. The pain in his eyes was what he had hoped to see in his father's… the regret, the desire to make it all better. The vulnerability of Dumbledore's pain made the Headmaster far more amiable to Angel, and quite oddly, for a moment he felt closer to the man than he ever thought he could. He therefore mustered the courage to ask in a low voice what he thought he was reading in the man's eyes. 

"…By you?" 

The old man seemed to flinch slightly, and took a lot of time to answer. And when he did answer, it was not with words. Dumbledore simply nodded, not looking at him. Angel inhaled sharply, which was a bad thing to do- it made him cough with a hacking sound. The Headmaster immediately was at his side, and gently propped him up. Angel's breathing relaxed. It seemed that Pomfrey had given the headmaster implicit instructions. 

Dumbledore sat back, fully aware that it was his truthfulness that had triggered that response in the boy. He shut his eyes, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. For a while more, there was again an uneasy pause. Then, he took another deep breath. He had already made his decision; it was already acted upon. He would see it through. He would not make the mistakes of the past. 

Albus placed the spectacles carefully back on his long nose and looked at the boy. There was an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't shut his eyes again; he looked straight into Angel's eyes as he continued.

"I was angry. It is hard to kill a human being, light or dark, and much more when he has been your best friend for half a century. I was angry with him for forcing me to kill him. I was angry with myself for not knowing him well enough after all those years. I felt there was no hope. We defeated Grindelwald. I killed him myself, as a revenge for my best friend's death, and felt absolutely no pity. I felt so ruthless that I still shudder at the thought of what I could have done at that time. But even then, I wasn't soothed. I was known as a hero, a great wizard…" 

Angel coughed dryly. Albus picked up the water goblet on the bedside table and filled it with a wave of his wand. Angel hesitated for a long moment, looking into his eyes, before accepting the water. 

"We were talking about acceptance," Angel said matter-of-factly, lying back on the bed. 

Albus inhaled deeply and sat straighter on the uncomfortable chair, feeling the old joints resist. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and went on with the tale. 

"Tom always thought he was a purely muggle born child. This is not the perfect position for some one who is in Slytherin. But then…due to some circumstances…he found out." He shut his eyes for a second, forcing himself to tell the truth. "_I_ told him. I also told him who his mother…and grand father had been. I admit it was a mistake. Telling him the truth wasn't a mistake in itself but I didn't…I wasn't very near to him. I should have tried to build up some trust first. Besides," Albus sighed heavily, "I left him alone afterwards." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I told him and then left the decision to himself. I told him that he should choose his path. I…didn't pursue it much further. I felt that the right thing to do was to wait till he would come to me himself, which never happened." 

"I can guess why," Angel said in a strange, quiet voice. 

"Why?" 

"He is…proud." The boy said after a gulp. Albus nodded. 

"Very true. And I had already scratched his pride…ripped the innocence away from him. He never particularly liked me, as I was Head of Gryffindor at that time, and I admit I had treated him with…indifference on some occasions. After our talk, he simply hated me and never trusted me again. I tried to talk to him again after some time but he was completely closed. 

"I don't blame Tom alone in this. If perhaps I was more persevering, if I had pressed him to talk to me instead of letting him choose whether or not to come to me…" 

Dumbledore shut his eyes for a while, then sighed. 

"I do not expect you to fully understand, but know that I do not denounce responsibility for not helping your father as I could perhaps have done. For that I am sorry. I promise you I will try my very best to make it up to you, impossible as it may sound at present." 

He waited for a response from the boy but it didn't come. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sipped some water before continuing. 

"Then…he wrote Marvolo. I guess he asked him about his mother. I don't exactly know what was exchanged between the two, but I'm sure it had an immense effect on the way Tom chose in the end. 

"Again I should have done something. I knew he was writing his grand father. I knew how persuasive Marvolo could be. But I had lost confidence in myself and unfortunately did not trust my instinct when I suspected what was going on with Tom. Even with the events of the Chamber of Secrets. I was the only one who knew who was Tom's grandfather. I was the only one who knew who was the heir of Slytherin; but still, I didn't act. I always told myself that there was no way to be sure…and by the time I did realise with certainty what was going on, he was already beyond my reach." 

He couldn't stand it anymore; he broke the gaze and looked out of the window.

Angel was confused. He wasn't sure he could believe the headmaster. 

'Perhaps he wants to conclude that it runs in the blood?' 

But it was unlikely. Dumbledore wasn't his usual self. There was no twinkle in his eyes, nor was there the usual merry smile on his face. He looked…old. Angel felt that he was the only one who had ever seen the headmaster mask-less, except for Marvolo Saulson perhaps. And he had said nothing, not a single word, that humiliated or belittled him. Nothing but words of support or understanding had come from the Headmaster. There was a nameless…presence in the room's atmosphere that simply felt impossible to exist if the Headmaster was insincere. Angel could say it was the first time the old man was confessing this to anyone. 

"It wasn't your fault," he said quietly, looking at his hands. The old man's gaze turned back to him. "It doesn't give him enough reason to be…what he is." 

"You mean it doesn't give him enough reason to feel there is no hope in the world?" 

He looked up at the old man to see the smile back on the face. 

"Everyone makes mistakes Angel. Some light, some very grave. There is not a single adult in my staff that has not quite a bit of both categories. But our goal in life is to try and see our mistakes and not make them a second time. In the best case, to see ahead into our future and try not to make the mistake even once. You have this chance, Angel. Don't ruin your life because you keep knocking on a door that will never be opened." 

Angel paused. He wasn't sure whether he had really understood everything that the headmaster had said. He had been more absorbed in the tale about his father's time in school. But now a disturbing question was forming in his head. 

Had it all been an act to get this on him? To tell him these words? But it had seemed so…real. 

**__**

'One would think you have seen enough not to trust anyone so naively again.' 

It seemed that the old man had read his thought. 

"Remember Angel, if somebody betrayed your trust, it doesn't mean everybody is untrustworthy," Dumbledore said sincerely. "This is one of the gravest mistakes many people tend to make, and pay for it far more dearly than they had bargained for." 

"I will think about it," Angel said after a moment's hesitation, pondering the old man's words. 

"I know you will." Dumbledore beamed. "I will always listen if you needed to talk." 

Angel nodded once without looking at the old man. He beamed down at him again and turned to go. 

"By the way, Angel." The headmaster turned back when he had reached the door. "Thank you." 

Angel wasn't sure what was he being thanked for but smiled nonetheless.

**__**

To Be Continued…

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**__**

Reviews! Reviews! Reviews!

Shadowycat: Very true. As for sorting with his feelings, ask help from the wise old grandpa, I say. ;)

Natasha Drake: Thank you! *bows* Here's your update! As for not being able to wait what happens in the end…neither can I, my dear friend, neither can I! ;)

Rayvern: Thank you! Here's your update!

RobinoftheForest: Thanks! I didn't know this story has an standard *looks sheepish* It scares me, actually. Hope I can keep up to that. =)


	10. Chapter Ten

**__**

Author Notes: Sorry for the delay in update. The last part was rather tricky. As always, many thanks go to Tantz, my precious BETA and friend. Review of this chapter will be answered in the next chapter's A/N.

**__**

Chapter Ten:

Severus Snape apparated in the usual place. It was a large dungeon room, dimly lit by the ominous orange flames of a few torches on the wall. Lord Voldemort was sitting on his throne, which was decorated with snakes. Nagini lay coiled at the foot of the throne hissing lazily. 

He realized that there was only one summoned beside himself: Lucius Malfoy. And he wasn't wearing his mask either. He felt extremely nervous; it had to be very important that only Lucius was privy to. And they'd rarely be summoned two nights in a row; the last occasion was when Angel was revived. 

"Take off your mask Sssnape," the Dark Lord hissed. 

He did as he was told. Another bad sign, it was ten times harder to hide your emotions from Voldemort's unyielding, relentless eyes without the expressionless mask. 

"Do you have any interesting news for me Severusss?" 

Snape's mind was racing. 

'Is it the boy? But how the hell does _he_ know?' 

"What kind of information would you like to hear, my lord?" 

"I always love to hear whatever you have to tell me, my dear Potions Master," the Dark Lord replied with a cruel, mocking smile. 

He wasn't going to give a clue then. 

"Dumbledore is reorganizing the Order of Phoenix, my lord. I saw Mundungus Fletcher in the school yesterday, but I couldn't find out anything more. The Old Fool has become a little suspicious so I can't risk for a week or so…" 

"Stop fooling around Snape, don't you know anything else?" 

"What is it exactly that your lordship have in mind?" 

"Anything involving with a sensation in your Mark perhaps." 

Snape swore inwardly. The Dark Lord obviously knew that his son was alive. Of course, why not. 'Why are all fifteen year olds so stupid?' He had to tell him though. He couldn't risk a certain rat finding out and messing everything up. 

"I don't have anything of that kind, my lord. But I do have some information that you would want to hear privately." 

Lucius looked indignant. 

"Is it really that important Snape?" 

"Yes, my lord." 

Voldemort seemed to ponder this for a moment before saying, 

"Dismissed Lucius." 

Malfoy pursed his lips but bowed respectfully and disapparated nonetheless, throwing Severus a dirty look. 

"It'd better not be your idea of a joke Snape." 

"It isn't my lord." 

"Look in my eyes." 

Snape vowed not to order any house elf punish itself when he got to Hogwarts as he raised his head. His gaze met Tom Riddle's hypnotizing red ones. 

"What is it?" 

"His highness…is in Hogwarts, my lord." 

Voldemort's eyes blazed for a moment before whispering almost inaudibly, 

"How?" 

"He was found in the Forbidden Forest." 

"And he activated the Dark Mark yesterday," Voldemort finished, flexing his long, pale fingers on the throne's arms. 

"Yes, my lord." 

"Why?" 

"His highness was very angry. When I told him that you hadn't given me any orders about bringing him back to you, he chose to…punish me, by activating the Mark," Snape replied, hoping that his lie wasn't evident in his eyes and that the activation of the Mark hadn't let the Dark Lord actually hear and see what had transpired in the infirmary. For once, his hopes came true. 

But Voldemort seemed extremely furious, and Snape found it harder than ever to resist the urge to back step or cower; he was Severus Snape not Peter Pettigrew, he had his pride to keep. He turned his gaze to the floor, however. He feared what Voldemort's reaction would be; he was not exactly what one would call sane. But then, the Dark Lord sat back in his throne, his look of twisted satisfaction positively venomous. 

He rested his chin on his joint fingertips and drawled, 

"Was every effort put in saving the boy?" 

Snape bowed.

"Yes, my Lord." 

"Excellent. Report to me when the boy is fully healthy… and Snape." 

"M' lord?" 

"Make sure Mr. Riddle does _not_ find a home in Gryffindor." 

"I will, my lord," Snape said, hoping that he would be dismissed now. 

Voldemort petted Nagini absently on the head for a good few seconds, hissing back and forth with her. He then raised his eyes and looked at his servant, a twisted smile on his face. 

"You called him " his highness" just a moment ago didn't you?" 

"Yes my lord." 

"You shouldn't have. He is now only Mr. Riddle, if anything. CRUCIO!" 

The man's agonized screams echoed through the empty hall. 

***************************

A few hours later he found himself in front of the brown door, again. Last night, he had been persuaded that none of those horrible events had ever happened. This hadn't changed when Angel didn't turn up for breakfast. It wasn't the first time the boy slept late. But it was, how ever, the first time he hadn't gone to wake him up. He deliberately didn't leave his study for the rest of the day. 

When he had felt the activation of the Mark, a spark of hope had gone off in the place that had once been his heart. He got out of his study and searched the house, from the roof to the dungeons. He looked everywhere he could think of, everywhere except…the boy's room. He still didn't want to go in there. He had then summoned Lucius, asking him if his Mark had burnt. At his negative answer, he had summoned the Death Eaters one by one. When Snape's turn came…

He pursed his lips and stopped his thoughts. He wasn't here to look for the boy. No. He was just on his way to his study. He stiffly turned to leave, trying to banish all thoughts…but something made him stop. He was positive he had heard something…or someone. He turned back to the door. He heard it again. It sounded like someone…crying. The joy and excitement that filled him was something he hadn't experienced for a long long time. It was proven. Angel was there! In his room! He clutched the doorknob, panting slightly. 

'Should I really go in there?' he thought. 

He still didn't want to go into the room. The crying continued. _Crying_! His eyes widened. Surely Angel was there but why was he crying? He frowned and pulled out his wand. Angel rarely cried. He had to be in serious pain…injured. His son was in danger. He burst the door open. 

The air was stuffy and heavy, like that of a tomb unsealed. The room itself lacked something, and it wasn't only the presence of its owner. It lacked…life. 

"Angel?" he called, holding his wand up. 

The velvet curtains were shut, leaving the room in dark, but still the light that shone into the room from the corridor behind, falling directly on an empty, untouched bed, was enough to give him a good view of the room. A vague feeling at the pit of his stomach stopped him from lighting the candles.

"Angel!" he called again, this time louder. 

He looked around the room, which looked unnaturally quiet and…empty. He looked around, waiting for Angel to jump out of a corner, shouting, "BOO!" and snicker at his startled face, something he had found pretty amusing at an earlier age. Something that he himself had always scowled at but had never truly tried to stop his son from doing. He looked toward the bathroom door, waiting for it to open. Waiting for Angel to come out, having forgotten, or not cared enough, to dry his hair properly yet again. 

"Angel! Come here," he ordered firmer than ever, but inside he knew he was getting oddly anxious. 

He looked at the desk, waiting to see his son yawn his way through some old tome he had set him to read. But the book lay forgotten near the edge of the desk, covered in dust. He looked back into the corridor, wishing to see Angel walk in, his broom on his shoulder and drenched to the skin, grinning and challenging him to yet another one on one game. 

"I GIVE YOU THREE SECONDS ANGEL!" he shouted, cold flames licking at his inside. "THEN I'LL GIVE YOU THE CURSING OF YOUR LIFE!"

Nothing. 

"ONE!" 

He looked around, waiting to see Angel lying on his back, killing time doing things as stupid as making puppets with socks. 

"TWO." 

Still no response. 

"YOU NOW I'M SERIOUS!"

He now had to say three but he somehow couldn't bring himself to uttering the word. He gritted his teeth, crossing the room in long, angry strides. He threw the door of the bathroom open, only to find it dark and empty. He then turned and walked to the window, pulling the curtains open so hard that one of them tore off the hangings. He opened the wardrobe. The boy's scent filled his nostrils, prickling the bare tips of his nerves. He barred his pointed teeth, tearing apart the many robes like a savage animal. He panted heavily, his vision blurred, his blood roaring in his ears. He didn't notice as Nagini uncoiled herself from his waist, quickly slithering away. He raised his wand, ready to perform a locating charm.

He heard a muffled sound. He froze, completely silent. He heard it again. A sniff. It came from behind the bed. He stormed to the other side of the room. The boy had again failed a curse, he was certain. It must have backfired. That's why he wouldn't answer. He had probably lost his voice or something.

He strode to the bed, the short distance seeming to stretch for miles. But when he reached the bed, he didn't see Angel behind it. Standing before him, trembling in fear and shaking with sobs, was cowering a House Elf. Its face was wet with tears and it was clutching Angel's Quidditch robe. He had never felt so angry at the sight of anyone before.

"What are you doing here?" he bellowed. "Where is Angel?"

The Elf's ears drooped even lower. Its downer lip quivered as it broke into heavy sobs, burying its face into the already drenched robes as it retreated further in fear, pressing its back to the stone wall, knees trembling.

"ANSWER ME!" he roared.

"Master Angel is gone," the Elf wailed, its voice muffled by the robe. "Master Angel is…"

"NO!" he shouted. The House Elf was so shocked it dropped the robes and fell to the floor, crouching and bringing up its arms to its face, a single cry leaving its lips.

He felt frozen to the spot. 

Angel was gone. His son was killed…at his own hands, and he was forced to face this now. Rage flared in him, and he maniacally pointed his wand at the reason of this unwanted revelation. The magic that he released on the elf was the most horrible he had ever allowed on a servant. The elf screamed and twitched in mid air, the flesh slowly leaving from the bones, the blood encasing it like a crimson, accusing mantle. The Elf died. The stupid Elf died too soon. Voldemort was now beyond control. He threw aside the shapeless lump that was once Angel's favourite servant, and turned around to face the room, his wand overactive: Everything that reminded even remotely of the boy, was caught up in flames, was destroyed, was annihilated. The room itself reeked of the boy's presence, of his scent, his laughter, his voice, his smile, his memories, his very existence. Voldemort thought he would be driven insane- he had to complete the deed, he had to finally eliminate every weakness that this infernal descendant of his had inspired. He had to rise above this. He had to conquer it just like he had conquered death. 

It was just another step towards immortality.

This last thought made Voldemort's contorted face settle in a stony deathly smile, and the temperature dropped dramatically in the room, rivaling the aura of a Dementor. A corner of his mouth curled in satisfaction as he calmly looked upon the chaos he had created around him, in this single room that was different, that held some trace of Tom Riddle in the Dark Lord's residence and heart. The Dark Lord was now in control, and he would neatly erase this last remnant. He didn't care what Snape had said, he no more had a son, he had never had.

Voldemort walked out calmly, in the frigid way that belied the complete lack of any emotion, even that of anger. He turned to the open brown door and looked inside the room again. Flicking his wand neatly, he banished everything, leaving the room a bare box of stones, fit for torture like every other room in his house for which he had no especial use. He flicked the wand again, and the brown door shut with a bang. Voldemort smiled a little wider, and watched the color wash away into pitch black, until the whole door was as black as any other in his house…as black as his heart.

He walked away like a living corpse, satisfied of the day's work: For there was no _different_ door in his house anymore. 

Tom Riddle was completely dead. The Dark Lord would live forever.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	11. Chapter Eleven

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Author Notes: 

IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! 

*clears throat* Well, I wanted to explain something. From this date I will be out of net for about nine months. I'm sorry to say that I don't think I'll be able to update in that time, in other words: you won't hear a word of me for nine months. I'm very, very sorry about this. I hope I will continue this story after that time although I most probably have lost all of my dear readers by that time *sigh* But it is inevitable. 

Farewell then my good comrades, let's hope we'll meet again. 

**__**

Chapter Eleven:

Angel woke up again only about an hour or two of sleep, both from the pain in his body and from the sound of the door and shuffling of feet. He heard two adults talk in hushed voices. 

"That's alright, alright. Lie him back. There. Oh my!" 

He heard the matron hurry to the other side of the room, muttering about atrocious Dark Lords who had the _cheek_ to cast multiple Cruciatus curses on young men every night. He heard different charms and unintelligible whispers. It was about half an hour later when the matron huffed, 

"Now Albus. Leave him alone and let him rest. There is nothing you can do for him that I can't." 

"I never questioned your skill Poppy. I just felt…" 

"I'm sure you have more important things to do," the woman said, shooing the headmaster out, "and for Merlin's sake Albus, please take this horrible thing with yourself." 

Angel opened his eyes slightly to see Pomfrey pointing to a white Death Eater mask, thrown on the floor, a look of utter disgust on her face. Dumbledore looked extremely weary for a moment before picking up the mask and nodding to Pomfrey, leaving the room with a last look at his Potions Master.

He waited until the matron left for her room. All this time he hadn't heard as much as a word from Severus. 

'He is dead. He is dead. I killed him. Dad felt the Mark and maybe even heard what we told each other.' 

**__**

'He can't be. They don't heal the dead.' 

'Perhaps it was their last try.' Angel gulped. He really didn't want the man's blood on his hands. 

'I have to see for myself.' 

**__**

'Don't be foolish! You are too weak to walk all the way.' 

'I will manage.' 

He inhaled deeply before flinging his legs down the bed and standing up. It took a moment to overcome the dizziness, and another to remember how to walk. The cot on which Severus was lying seemed impossibly far away. He used the edge of the bed for support and took a determined step forward. All his body hurt. He understood that he couldn't bend his left knee more than a bit and that breathing too deeply would result in fits of coughing. It took a long time to finish the route as he was painfully slow and had to stop every now and then to rest. The greatest problem was that Severus's cot was in the other row of beds, so he had to cross the aisle. It meant no support. He gulped and let go of the bedside table he was leaning against and put a wavering step into the empty area. 

It wasn't a good idea. 

At the second step, he wavered and tilted to one side. He struggled to keep himself upright, but the world was impossibly unstable and he could no longer remember why had he left the bed. He staggered and fell to the marble floor, face first. 

*********************************

He blinked his eyes open at the sound of dull thud. He looked around the room. The large amount of white told him that it was the infirmary. He strained his eyes to see through the darkness but there was nobody else to be seen. All the beds were empty. He felt something was wrong. He looked again. There was no one. And it struck him. 

**__**

'That's the point idiot! The boy!' 

He sat up abruptly and immediately regretted it. He shut his eyes and opened them again until the world came into focus. He got down from the bed, shuddering from the sensation of cold marble on his bare feet. He felt weak and his throat was hoarse and dry. His mouth tasted bitter from the potions he had doubtlessly been fed. He looked around and took a step forward. There was the boy lying on his face on the floor. Didn't the Pomfrey woman have a _clue_ whatsoever about her nursing duties? 

****************************************

He felt cold. He could feel the cold stone floor touching his body. Every single part of his body ached. Breathing was almost impossible because of the pressure against his chest. 

'I'm back in the dungeon,' he thought frightfully. 'No. Please. No.' 

He could feel the pressure from his dad's heavy boot on his ribs. He could feel the acrid taste of blood in his mouth. He could almost hear his father, spitting words in Parsel tongue. 

"…You are a shame to me, and to Salazar Slytherin…" 

"No, please," he whimpered. 

A hand touched his shoulder. Something was wrong. The curse had to come right now…or did they intend to continue the torture? He wanted to pull away but couldn't move. He felt like he was stunned. He heard a familiar voice from far away but couldn't make out the words as his father's voice echoed horribly through his head. 

"…Shame…I disown you here and now. I refuse that you are my son, or Salazar Slytherin's heir…" 

He heard an irritated grunt and was pulled to his feet, some body held him from under his shoulders and dragged him to a bed and put him gently on it. He was writhing. 

" …May your pathetic spirit be damned forever…" 

He was shaking…no, somebody had grabbed him by the shoulders and was shaking him. 

'It's a nightmare. It's not real. Wake UP,' he heard himself think. 

Somebody slapped him hard across the face and his eyes flashed open. At first he could see nothing but a blur of white. He blinked several times until he could make out a man, Severus Snape. He was looking down at him, his expression unreadable in the dim light. 

"Severus," he said weakly, remembering the reason of his unsuccessful effort, "you are…alive." 

"Why should I not be?" he snapped. 

Angel sighed with relief and shut his eyes. 

"One would think you would have the brains not to get out of bed," Snape said snidely. "I wanted to see whether you were alive." 

"How very Gryffindor of you." Snape's voice was like acid. 

Angel angrily opened his eyes, to see the Potions Master's towering figure at the end of the bed, arms crossed and smirking. 

"Never call me that again Snape! Never. And," Angel decided to inform him of how he looked in hospital robes, " you look…gorgeous." 

"Thank you very much. You look stupendous too," the man answered. 

The faint hint of exhaustion behind the man's sarcastic voice turned Angel's attention to the main topic. 

"What happened?" 

"Nothing special, I just had a lovely chat with your father." There was a lengthy pause and Snape lied down on the adjoining bed. 

"Sorry," Angel said quietly after another long minute. 

********************************************

Severus wanted to retch. His head was spinning and his body was still tense because of the after effect of the Cruciatus curse. Chattering with the Dark Lord's offspring hadn't helped him in regaining his strength the slightest bit. And apparently it wasn't helpful to Angel either. He collapsed on his bed. 

**__**

'The boy is already pained enough Severus. Is it all you can do? Adding insult to injury?' 

'I can't help him. Last time I tried to help someone I took them straight to Voldemort.' 

**__**

'Then SHUT UP! You needn't inflict more pain if you can't reduce it.' 

Severus shut his eyes and sighed in frustration. 

"Sorry," the boy said in a faint, barely audible voice. " It was because of me wasn't it?" 

Severus felt the need to crack his head open against the wall. Damn Gryffindor selflessness. He had come to believe that it was their way of getting revenge; frustrating you to hell by making you feel more and more guilty by each of their words or acts. And here was the Gryffindor he had tortured to death, _apologizing_ to him; apologizing to _him_. 

"It is not a terribly rare occasion; and nobody got me into this but myself. And STOP THIS DAMNED GRYFFINDOR SHOW!" 

"I told you don't call me that," the boy said angrily, raising on an elbow. Severus sneered; it was all far easier when your counterpart was violent. 

"Why? That's what you are." 

"NO! I'm not and you will be sorry if you continue this." 

"Really? How?" Angel smirked. 

"Honestly Snape, one would think you should know by now that I can kill you with as much as a snap of my finger. Disowned or not," the boy gulped and hesitated for a moment but his voice wasn't croaked or wavering when he continued, "I can always find a way to inform my…_him_…about your…uh…_truer colors_?" 

Severus sneered. "You make me shudder." 

"You think I can't do it?" 

"I'm sure you can." 

"What was that then?" 

"It just that your threat is not quite as horrible as you think." 

"Excuse me?"

There was a lengthy pause before Severus said, exhaustion far more evident in his voice than he would have appreciated,

"Because, _Mr. Riddle_, death is not always punishment. At times, it is a reward." 

Severus turned his pitch black, bottomless eyes to lock with Angel's. The bitter, unnameable expression in them was almost too much to bear; Angel flinched and looked away. Snape sneered. 

"Don't threaten what you cannot understand. It only shows your inexperience or despair," he added, shutting his eyes. Angel pondered on his words. Although irritating, Angel couldn't deny the truth in them. He scowled. That did not mean he had to like the fact.

**********************************

Arabella Figg was sitting beside her window. Looking at an old photo in the bright light of the early morning. Her face twisted into a hateful grimace as the tall boy bent his head to kiss the blonde girl, his black hair falling in his pale face. The girl in the photo giggled and waved happily. Arabella averted her eyes. She wanted to cry but had no tears left. How could Albus do this? She was starting to believe that there was some truth in the words of those who believed he was a crazy dotty old man. She sighed and stood up, putting the photo on the chair. She headed to the bathroom. 

'I will go down for breakfast.' 

She had imprisoned herself in her rooms all the previous day. 

'I won't ruin my beautiful day for Voldemort's insufferable excuse of an offspring. _Angel_ honestly, it is a rather ironic name for the Dark Lord's son isn't it?' 

**__**

'It was Myra's favorite.' 

She ignored the tiny voice and poured more shampoo on her hair. 

'Argh! It's really greasy. I should take better care of my hair if I don't want to be known as the second Snape,' she thought, trying in vain to cheer herself up. 

'That's alright Ari, don't let it get over you,' she thought as she chose a navy blue robe. 'It's not that bad. You can get your revenge. You can get Myra's revenge.' She nodded firmly to her tidy image in the mirror. 

"You look determined my dear." The mirror said sleepily. 

"I am," she answered. Tom was excessively wrong if he thought he could do anything using that brat.

'He will have detention with Filch all weekends and I will find a way to cancel his Hogsmeade trips permission.' She smiled and draped a thin cloak around her shoulders. 

'You aren't the only Slytherin around Tom,' she thought as she walked down the corridor, planning the boy's first detention.

"Good morning Arabella," Albus said with a smile. 

"Good morning Albus," she said airily as she sat down at the breakfast table, arranging the napkin on her legs and deciding that she was very hungry after eating nothing for a whole day. 

"Can you pass the sausages please, Albus? Thank you." 

"Oh sure. I'm happy you decided to join us. I was afraid you might be ill. The house elves said you wouldn't eat anything." 

"I felt a little unwell, but I'm alright now. Thank you." 

"I'm happy it was nothing serious. I'm afraid Poppy can't look after yet another patient." Arabella rose her eyebrows. 

"Who is in the hospital wing? Severus again?" 

"Severus is indeed in the hospital but I think he will be able to leave in about an hour. I meant Mr. Riddle. Poppy has to give him her full attention, considering the boy's state." 

"Riddle is still in Hogwarts?" she asked incredulously. "I thought he left the day before yesterday." 

"He actually did but he came back again the same night." 

"I think _was brought back_ would cover it better. Good morning Albus, Arabella," Poppy said as she sat down at the breakfast table. 

"Good morning Poppy," Albus answered merrily, "how are your patients?" 

"Severus left just half an hour ago, much sooner that I had given him permission. It's nothing earth shattering about the stubborn man though. And Mr. Riddle would be better hadn't he decided to ruin all my efforts and the progress of his healing by leaving his bed." The matron huffed. 

"I still don't understand what are you talking about," Arabella said. "What is Riddle exactly doing in Hogwarts when he is supposed to be back with his daddy?" 

Albus sighed wearily. "It's simple Arabella. Voldemort's reaction to the Sorting result was far more severe than we had imagined. I think Poppy can explain the rest better." Arabella turned to the matron who cleared her throat, regaining her composure after having winced horribly at the mention of Voldemort's name. 

"Well, I don't think you are interested in details. But he is tortured, worse than anyone I have ever nursed. There have been six rounds of torture, according to Albus. The boy was found in the dark forest. Albus says he has been sent there by some obscure dark curse." 

"Translocus Morbis," Arabella whispered to herself in a faint voice. 

"I don't know, perhaps. But he is quite very lucky that he is not already killed." Arabella felt she had lost her appetite again. 

'What then? A bastard kills another. Why should I be affected in any way?' 

**__**

'For Heaven's sake Ari, he is just a child!' 

'Voldemort's child.' 

**__**

'He is Myra's child too.' 

'He is a result of her sheer foolishness.' 

**__**

'He is your best friend's son. You should at least try to help him.' 

'You didn't think so a minute ago.' 

**__**

'I did but you refused to listen. Don't be so stubborn. What would Myra say if she saw you treat her already injured son like this?' 

Arabella rose from her chair. 

"You didn't eat anything Arabella." 

"I'm full. Thank you Albus." 

"Will you go to the infirmary?" 

"Why should I?" She arched an eyebrow. 

"Nothing. Forget about it," Albus said, but he had a knowing smile on his face. 

'I will NOT go there.' She vowed silently.

Half an hour later, she found that her legs had taken her to the hospital's door. She hesitated for a minute before turning the doorknob and entering soundlessly. She walked hesitantly over to the only occupied cot and silently pulled the curtain away. She felt her body go numb as she looked at the boy's frame and smooth features as sunlight shone over them from the window. There was a big healing bruise on his cheek and a few small scars and scratches all over his face. But he had a heavenly look in his peaceful sleep and with the sun shining over. 

**__**

'He looks like Myra.' 

'No. He looks exactly like his bastard of a father!' 

**__**

'The exact shade of tan on his skin, the nose, the chin, you can hardly deny it Ari.' 

The boy's lips moved. Arabella had no time to consider the boy's features any more as the boy kept mumbling. 

"…No…dad…fire…why…mom…mom…mom…" 

Arabella froze. 

'It's only hallucination. He can't possibly…' She gulped. The boy was louder now and was writhing, trapped in a nightmare. 

"No…no…NOOO!" Feeling utterly helpless, she hesitantly touched the boy's arm, but he pulled away and hissed in pain. His eyes flashed open; his unfocused gaze fell on her. 

"Mom? Am I dead at last?" he asked weakly. 

"No. I'm Arabella Figg. You are in Hogwarts," she said hoarsely, her throat dry. 

The boy shut his eyes and sighed, which caused a fit of coughing. Arabella awkwardly helped him sit up. 

"Should I call Poppy?" The boy shook his head and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. 

"You were having a nightmare." The boy didn't answer and stared at his hands. 

"You saw Myra?" Arabella kicked herself mentally as the boy looked at her, surprised. 

"You knew my mother?" 

"Ah…well…a little." 

"She was your friend?" 

"I'll go get Poppy," she said, turning abruptly to leave. 

"Wait," she paid no attention to the boy's voice. "Please." 

She walked faster, pretending not to hear the weak, young voice. She didn't go bring Poppy. She shut the infirmary's door behind herself, slipping down the wall to sit on the cold floor, holding her face in her hands. She didn't cry, didn't move; she just sat there for a long time feeling miserable, remembering old days, days she had tried hard to forget.

__

… " Oh Ari!" 

Myra burst into their dorm, looking happy, flushing a deep shade of red. 

"Ari you won't believe…ARI! Wake up!" 

"Go 'way," Arabella mumbled sleepily, turning her back to the other girl. Myra pulled the covers away. Arabella shuddered from the permanent cold in the dungeons and sat up on the bed, glaring at her best friend. 

"Give it back. I want to sleep." 

"It's almost dinner time. How long do you want to sleep lazy bones?" 

"I stayed awake all night for that stupid DADA test. Now give me back my blanket." 

"Oh shut up Ari! You won't be able to sleep when I tell you the news." Arabella eyed her friend skeptically.

"What's it anyway?" Myra flushed again and giggled, stumping down beside Arabella and holding her friend's hands in her own shaky ones. 

"Oh Ari. I can't believe it. He asked me to…to go to Hogsmeade with him. On Valentine's day! Can you imagine? He just came over and asked me out! I was just…stunned! I'm sure I made a big fool of myself." She laughed out aloud like a maniac. "Oh Ari dear I'm so…so happy!" 

Arabella arched her eyebrows.

"Who?" 

Her friend flushed violently and didn't say a word but Arabella caught the enthusiastic twinkle in her best friend's eyes. 

"Oh no," she grimaced slightly. "Tell me it's not that awful mudblood." 

"Ari! His name is Tom!" Arabella laughed out aloud. 

"C'mon Myra! Everybody calls him that!" 

"No they don't! And you'd better don't behave like Cassius Snape if you want to stay my friend," Myra retorted, crossing her hands on her chest. Arabella chuckled and leaned back against the bedpost. She knew it would be useless to warn Myra about the way befriending the boy would risk her standing in the Slytherin house. Myra was simply deaf and blind when it came to Tom Riddle…

"Arabella," she heard a worried voice, "Arabella, are you fine?" She opened her eyes to see Albus' worried face. She accepted his help to get up and rearranged her untidy hair. 

"Yes, thank you. I suddenly felt…dizzy." She said weakly, avoiding Albus' gaze. She cursed herself for being so obvious when lying; she was supposed to be a Slytherin for Merlin's sake. 

"Arabella," Albus said seriously. She looked up to the old man.

"Really Albus, I'm alright. I didn't sleep very well last night…" She stopped her untruthful row of excuses when she looked at the headmaster. There was a lengthy pause before Albus talked at last. 

"You are a mature and experienced adult Arabella. I won't tell you what to do. I just ask you not to do anything you will regret later." She winced and nodded. Albus smiled kindly at her and gently patted her arm. 

"Go take some rest. You look pale."

**__**

To Be Continued… 


End file.
